


Chuck vs. the Rogue Spy

by Crumby



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Espionage, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 78,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crumby/pseuds/Crumby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Plane

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on ff-net from January to June '12.
> 
> Beta'd by the fantastic [mxpw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mxpw999). Thanks BetaMax!
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading. :)

**_October 8, 2009_ **

He was ready.

He had been training for this for months.

Shaw and Casey had told him he was ready. Even Beckman seemed impressed with his progress.

And for good reason. He had been nothing but the perfect spy ever since he came back from Prague. Shaw, who had taken over his training four months ago, had said it was time.

So why was he getting so nervous now? He wasn't even there yet. He was going undercover in Montréal. It was to be his first solo mission. It had sounded so exciting when Shaw had told him about it. He was traveling as Charles Carmichael, a successful business man. He'd make contact with the CIA once he landed and would receive further instructions for his mission. Plus, he had his nun-chucks. Although, Casey didn't seem to agree that it was a good choice of weapon.

They all thought he could do it, and he wanted to prove to them that they weren't wrong. He needed to complete this mission. Failure wasn't an option.

Chuck wiped his clammy hands along his thighs. He could do this. He took a deep breath and looked around him. He smiled when he saw that the man sitting next to him was reading a travel book about Hawaii. Morgan was well on his way to becoming a Benihana chef. Chuck missed him, but he was happy for his best friend. Although, from what he had told Chuck, Anna seemed to be spending a lot of time with the prep chef. Morgan should probably worry about that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a stewardess in a blue uniform holding a tray with champagne flutes. His neighbor was reading, so she looked at Chuck first, smiling. "May I offer either of you a drink?"

"Oh, uh, no champagne for me, thank you," Chuck answered. "But hmm, maybe a glass of water?"

"Of course," she said with a nod. "I'll come back with it."

"Thank you."

The flight attendant turned to his neighbor who ordered water as well, and she left to get them their glasses.

Champagne… Chuck could certainly get used to First Class. It wasn't just the service, though. There was so much space too. Leg room was often a problem for him, but here he could stretch out his limbs even in his window seat. He could take a little walk if he wanted. Have a drink at the bar. The martinis did look good. And Carmichael loved them. He needed to stay focused, however: that's why he had opted for water. Casey had told him not to get distracted. He had said Chuck still had the habit of running into trouble—it wasn't his fault; Chuck didn't do it on purpose. Fortunately, Casey had also assured him that he would be fine.

He relaxed at the thought. Casey had been there for Chuck since day one. He knew almost everything that had happened; he had been there for most of Chuck's spy life. And even if he wasn't always the friendliest partner, he had supported Chuck since he had come back to Burbank. He had his back. Casey wouldn't have let him go on this mission if he thought it was too soon.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Maybe he hadn't been as ready as he'd thought.

The stewardess who had offered him a drink earlier was holding him at gun point in the middle of the cargo hold. Oh, and she had poisoned him as well! He should have known that it had been too easy.

Earlier, Chuck had flashed on a passenger on his way back from the little boys' room. Immediately returning to where he'd come from—it had earned him a sympathetic gaze from his neighbor—he had called Shaw, who wasn't surprised. At all. In fact, he had expected it. Chuck's mission had apparently been planned to happen on the plane. That explained why they had set up a sub-network on his phone so that Chuck would be able to text and call in flight. Still, Chuck was stuck in the air, and had had to take care of a Ring agent that looked like a professional wrestler. What kind of first solo mission was that? Chuck had told himself that Shaw would probably keep testing him until he officially became an agent, which meant that he needed to suck it up and accomplish his assignment.

And to his relief, it had gone well. The Ring agent he had flashed on was Hugo Panzer. He was moving a CIA crypto key to Montréal, and Chuck was supposed to retrieve it. He had nervously rumbled when he'd asked if he could sit next to him, but he had taken a moment to breathe, and steadied his hands. Using his shiny new tranq pen—KGB model—on Panzer's glass of whisky, Chuck had successfully put him to sleep (although he was a bit annoyed, as Shaw should have anticipated that pens don't always work on planes because of the air pressure).

Once the _really_ muscular man had been out, Chuck had grabbed Panzer's plane ticket, and had gone to the cargo hold to find his luggage. It was a casket. A casket with a very, very dead man inside. Shaw had called it smart; Chuck had just thought it was disgusting. But he had gotten the key, and also probably a cold in the process, because it was freezing down there.

After checking that Panzer was still out, Chuck had collapsed in his seat, and called Shaw to tell him the good news. Glancing through the window and sipping on his glass of water, he could finally unwind. He had done it. He had completed his mission.

The water hadn't tasted really good though…because it was poisoned! Chuck had tried to throw it up—okay, to be honest, he hadn't gotten that far, that was disgusting—but the flight attendant had made him open the bathroom where he had once again taken refuge, and she had asked for the crypto key, pointing her nice gun at him the whole time.

So Chuck had then led her back into the cargo hold, and was now standing in the middle with alleys of luggage on both sides. He didn't feel good. He could still taste the sour finish of the poison in his mouth, feeling the need to swallow every two seconds. And he had started sweating. A lot. He definitely was going to get that cold.

"Who are you working for?" the fake stewardess asked. She had taken his jacket when he arrived, had offered him a drink, had mentioned the lobsters Chuck had been looking forward to. She had played her part well. He knew he'd need to be more cautious in the future. You never knew who to trust in the kind of life he had chosen. Chuck knew it, but he still needed to work on getting used to the fact.

"Alright, I work for the CIA, okay?" Chuck was really starting to feel dizzy. "I can't give you the key without my boss authoriz—"

They suddenly heard the hold's elevator being activated. Fortunately, Chuck was the one facing the entrance and the Ring agent had her back to it. She slightly turned her head at the sound. Not wasting the opportunity, Chuck used the distraction to strike. He hit the gun with his right hand and it went flying through the luggage.

He just needed to flash now. Inconveniently, he didn't like fighting girls. He had been taught to be a gentleman. Ellie had seen to it. His hesitation gave his opponent time to react. She punched him in the face. He lost his balance and it caused him to take a step back, turning to his right. That's when he saw his suitcase. Shaking his head in order to clear it, he reached for the luggage and dug out his nun-chucks. He had known that was a good idea to bring them. He'd make sure to tell Casey.

_Bam!_

Chuck turned toward the woman and the loud crash he'd just heard. The Ring operative was lying unconscious on the floor. He shook his head again and blinked. He had forgotten what had caused the distraction: the elevator.

Someone had come down, and had taken care of the woman. His savior was now standing there, rubbing a hand with the other. Probably from the blow that had knocked out the Ring agent.

Because he wasn't sure what to say, Chuck just stood there and stared at her.

––––o–––––o––––

 

He definitely wasn't ready for this.

What was she doing here? Maybe the poison was getting to him. The Ring agent could have mentioned hallucinations as part of the symptoms.

She kneeled on the floor and started to search the unconscious agent. That's why she was here? She wanted something from this woman. When she seemed to have found it, she looked up at him.

"Uh, Chuck?" she said. If it was some kind of vision, it really sounded like her. He was surprised his brain would have a memory as good as this. It had been a while since he last heard her voice. And why was her hair looking different? He liked her hair the way he remembered it.

Her eyebrows went up at his lack of reaction. Chuck still hadn't moved. He just stared, probably wide-eyed. "Chuck, are you okay?" She rose to her feet and started to advance toward him. "You should probably take the antidote," she said. Her tone was flat, professional. Except, it wasn't her job she was doing. She didn't have her job anymore. "You're really pale." She handed him a little flask.

"Sarah?" he asked. "Is that really you?"

"Yes," Sarah said, nodding. "Hi," she added awkwardly.

"Hi." What was going on?

"Now drink," she ordered, waving the flask at him. When Chuck still didn't move, she took his left hand, the one that wasn't holding the nun-chucks, and placed the antidote in it.

"Drink. Right," he said looking down at his palm. The contact with her freezing hands had made him a little lightheaded. Or rather, more lightheaded than he already had been thanks to the poison. That's what Sarah had been looking for. The antidote. He blinked again. Why was Sarah here?

"Chuck, come on," she started to sound a little concerned now. "You need to drink it _now_."

It finally snapped him out of his daze. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah looked down at the question, the expression on her face unreadable. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," Chuck answered with a casualness he wasn't feeling. "We have what?" he glanced at his watch, "at least two hours of flight left."

"Not if you die from poisoning," she said pointedly before sighing. "This is serious Chuck, drink it or I will make you."

Chuck couldn't help but smile. It really _was_ Sarah. He opened the flask, and drank.

"Good," Sarah said. She let out another sigh, before she turned and walked back to the unconscious woman on the floor. "We need to—"

A ringtone interrupted her. It was the standard one, so he assumed it was Shaw. Personalization didn't really fit his superior, and he'd probably tell Chuck that having an unremarkable ringtone was more inconspicuous. Chuck juggled with the flask and his nun-chucks to grab his cell in his pocket, and managed to put it on speakerphone.

"Hello."

"Chuck, are you alright?" Sarah narrowed her eyes when she heard Shaw's voice; she probably wondered who he was.

"Yeah, hmm…" He hesitated. What should he say about Sarah? He looked at her, searching her eyes. She shook her head slightly at him. "I, uh, I took care of the second Ring agent." Sarah looked at him with what was something akin to gratitude, relief. It was hard to tell. She seemed different, distant. Not the distant Sarah from their early days though, but something else. Chuck wasn't sure what.

"Good job, Chuck," Casey said. Chuck almost thought Sarah was going to smile hearing Casey's voice, but it was gone before it even started.

"Thanks, Casey. And uh, I got the antidote, so I should be fine," he smiled at Sarah while saying the last part. She was busy with the Ring agent, though, and had started to pull her by the arms. "What should I do with the second operative?"

"Where are you?" Shaw said.

"I'm in the cargo hold."

"And Panzer?"

"He should still be in his seat," Chuck said. Sarah nodded at him.

"Okay, secure the female agent in the hold, and make sure Panzer doesn't leave his seat. I'll have agents retrieve them when the plane lands. Good job," Shaw said, ending the call.

"Looks like I'll never get to use these," Chuck said with a smile and waved his nun-chucks. Sarah looked up, but didn't say anything.

After putting them away in his suitcase, along with the flask, Chuck stowed his phone back in his pocket and brushed his hands on his pants. Why did he have to get poisoned the day he finally saw Sarah again? He was sweating, and probably looked like crap. He took off his tie to get some air, and tried to get a hold of himself. Meanwhile, Sarah had secured the female agent and had hidden her in a corner.

"Why did you put her there?" he asked.

"The CIA agents in charge of grabbing her will have to look for her." She wouldn't meet his eyes as she spoke. "It will buy me some time."

Sarah pulled a mini-flashlight from her pocket. She rotated the end with the bulb until they heard it click. A few other manipulations later, and Sarah had separated the bulb part from the rest of the tube. It wasn't the battery that was revealed, however. She applied it against the woman's throat, before pressing the on/off button.

"What are you injecting her with?" Chuck asked.

"Same stuff that they put in twilight darts. She won't remember that you weren't alone," she said, straightening up her shirt. Like him, Sarah was dressed for First Class. She was wearing a black business suit, without the jacket, and a gray shirt. And her hair was up and dyed brown. Not the happiest of colors. "I'll let you finish with her," she added, before he could ask any more questions. "Make sure you find her gun."

"Where are you going?"

"I took care of Panzer too," she replied, "but I should check on him." She disappeared into the elevator then, leaving a dumbstruck Chuck to himself, unsure of what just happened.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Ready?"

Sarah didn't wait for his answer, and pressed a humidified tissue against his bottom lip. Chuck winced.

"Sorry," she said.

He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "She just got in a lucky kick." There were all the forewarnings of a smile on her face, but just like down in the cargo hold, it never came.

Once he had finished securing the scene and the stewardess, Chuck had come back up and found Sarah sitting in his seat. His neighbor was gone. Where, Chuck had no idea, but he assumed she had exchanged her seat with him. He had sat next to her and noticed that she'd been waiting with a bottle of water and a tissue. She had told him it was to clean up the dry blood he'd been sporting. With all that had happened, he hadn't even realized that he had the all too familiar metallic taste in his mouth.

"Here." She retracted her hand, and folded the tissue, before putting it in her pants pocket.

"Thanks," he said and ran his tongue along his lip. With the adrenaline wearing off, he was starting to get nervous. She was here, and Chuck had lied to Shaw about it. He didn't have a choice, though. To keep busy, he took his tie out of his pocket and started folding it neatly. "So, uh, how have you been?"

He inwardly kicked himself. How have you been? Seriously, Chuck?

Sarah bit her bottom lip. "Good." She paused. "You?"

"Fine, uh, Ring agents trying to poison me aside." She nodded, but he didn't get the grin he wanted. He lifted his messenger bag to his knees to put away the tie.

An uncomfortable silence set in. Chuck wanted to ask a million questions. Where had she been? It had been five months since they last saw each other. What the hell happened? "Sarah," he started again once his bag was back at his feet. She was looking out the window, fixing on a point in the horizon. When he paused, she turned to him. He gave her a tired smile.

That's when it hit him. She looked _tired_. She was beautiful, like she always was. (Although he wished that her hair was its natural color.) But Sarah also seemed exhausted. She looked away again, and he realized he'd been staring. He cleared his throat nervously. He had just caught a cold after all. "What, hmm, where have you been?"

"It's complicated."

"Why? What happened?" He had finally found her. Or, rather, _she_ had found him. He had waited for this moment for so long and now he could finally get answers. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. "Fine, then what are you doing here?"

For some reason, that finally got him a smile. A little one, but a smile nonetheless. "I came to make sure you were okay."

Chuck frowned. He hadn't expected that. "That _I_ was okay? Sarah, the CIA has been looking all over for you."

She pursed her lips. "What did they tell you?" He could hear some sadness in her voice, and she shifted awkwardly in her seat.

"Nothing. They're not telling me anything," he said, letting his frustration show. "If it hadn't been for Casey, I wouldn't even know you're rogue."

 _Rogue._ That was a weird word to associate with Sarah.

Sarah Walker: rogue spy.

It didn't look like she liked it either. She turned to fix on the seat in front of her. "If you knew, why didn't you tell him I was here?"

"Err, because the CIA's looking for you?"

"But you _are_ CIA," she said, turning to him again.

That was a fair point, but Chuck couldn't just sell her out. Especially not when he had no clue why she was rogue. Who was he kidding anyway? He was the guy that had let his traitorous ex-girlfriend, a Fulcrum agent, escape from government custody. And this was _Sarah_. Surely she knew he could never send her to prison. Or worse.

At least, he thought she would have known. Right now, she seemed to doubt it. "So?" he asked. "You didn't go rogue, did you?"

She watched him intently for a few seconds. "No," she said with a yawn and a little shake of her head. Again, she looked away, going back to that point on the horizon only she could see.

"Why are you on a mission without back up?" she asked suddenly.

"It's my first solo mission."

"On a plane?" she said disapprovingly.

Chuck shrugged. "For the record, I didn't know it would be on the plane."

Sarah frowned slightly and returned her gaze to the clouds.

"What happened in May, Sarah?" Chuck asked, interrupting the silence again. He had waited for her in Prague, just like she had told him to. She never came.

"Chuck, just leave it alone, okay."

He brought up his hands in frustration. "Why?" he asked, his tone louder than he had intended.

"Chuck, please…" She looked at him and he could see the desperation in her eyes. It was his turn to look away, watching the bar.

After a moment, Sarah brought a hand to her mouth to hide a yawn. She really seemed worn out. The questions could wait. They could talk once back on the ground, he decided.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked instead.

She thought about it for a second, but then just shrugged.

"Maybe we could just, uh, close our eyes for a little while. Get some rest." Chuck paused. "The little expedition in the cargo hold beat me up. And, uh, we've secured both agents, so we should be fine," he added for good measure. It wasn't true, he wasn't tired, but she probably wouldn't agree to get some sleep if he just kept stealing glances at her. And that was when he wasn't staring.

"Yeah," she said watching him. She gave him another smile, and there was a little twinkle in her eyes. "Yeah, that's a good idea." She shuffled in her seat again, to get more comfortable, and closed her eyes.

Chuck kept his eyes wide open. He wanted to make sure everything was fine. And he was afraid she wouldn't be here when he woke up. He'd already lost her once.

He watched Sarah's breathing steady, and it didn't take her long to fall asleep. He, on the other hand, felt restless. Sarah was alive. He had always known she would be, he could sense it, but… Now she was actually here. She had come to make sure he was okay. And she had. She'd helped him arrest the two Ring operatives. She wasn't telling him anything, though, and that was another question he could add to his list. Why didn't she want to answer him and tell him what was going on? Hopefully, he'd get answers in Montréal.

Sarah moved a little in her sleep, and her head fell on his shoulder. He froze at first, but then he smiled despite himself, and wrapped an arm around her.

For now, he'd take this.

––––o–––––o––––

 

He wasn't ready to let her go.

It was too soon. They barely had time to talk.

Shaw had called before the landing to tell him he had set up Montréal agents to take over the custody of the Ring operatives, and that Chuck was to stay on the plane. Shaw needed the key back in Burbank right away.

So now, Sarah was leaving, and he was stuck on the plane.

"Sarah, wait," Chuck said quickly. He was starting to freak out. He took a deep breath. "You can't just leave. Come back with me to Burbank so we can sort this out."

"Chuck, I can't go back." She had gathered her jacket and her purse, and rose. "It's not that simple."

"Then tell me what to do to make it simple," he said, standing up as well.

She started walking to the door. He followed her. "Chuck, no. You can't get involved in this." She seemed sorry about leaving like this, but her tone told him she was serious. It made him pause.

"Why not?" Didn't she get it? What was he supposed to do? Step back and let her die from exhaustion? Running away from who knew what?

Sarah stopped and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side in order to let the other passengers pass them. "It's not just the CIA that's after me, Chuck." She bit her lips, obviously pondering how much she could tell him. "And those people… They can't know about you." She squeezed his arm. "I really need to go. I'm sorry." She aimed back to the exit.

"Okay, okay, wait. Just…" His brain was running. He needed to think of something. He couldn't just give up, not when he had finally found her. "Give me your phone," he said out of the blue, closing the distance once more.

Sarah came to a halt again, and turned away from the door. "Why?" she asked with a frown.

"I'll give you a number." She opened her mouth to interject but Chuck lifted a hand. "A secure number. I've set it up myself. Nobody knows about it," he clarified. "It's safe, I promise." He was pleading at this point, but he didn't care. She was clearly conflicted. He didn't know why she was hesitating, but he could tell she wanted to give him her phone. "Please, Sarah," he said and extended his hand.

"You're sure it's safe?" she finally asked.

"Yes. Yes," he said. "You can trust me when it comes to phones, remember?" He gave her an encouraging smile.

Sarah smiled back at the memory. It didn't last long, but it was the brightest expression he'd seen from her today. Then she sighed, shaking her head a little bit. "Fine," she said and handed him her phone, "but you need to hurry. I really need to leave."

He made a quick job of writing the number. "I entered it under 'Montréal'," he said, giving her the phone back. Before she could start walking again, he reached out for her arm, and caught her eyes. He wasn't going to back down now. "Sarah, listen. Whatever happened…I don't care, okay. I just want to help. Please, call the number I gave you and we'll figure something out. We need to talk about this."

When she didn't say anything, he took another step toward her. They were standing close now, looking at each other.

"Just think about it," he added. "Please. I can help." He swallowed. "You don't have to do this alone."

She turned her head to the door one more time, and then looked back, staring at his collar. He gave her a minute. She was considering it. At least that was something. "I'll think about it," she said.

Chuck nodded, but Sarah was already gone.


	2. The Return Home

_**August 6, 2009** _

Something was off.

For the last three months, Sarah had been on her guard twenty-four/seven. It was exhausting, and she knew that, one of these days, she'd probably make a mistake. An hour of sleep too many, and they could find her. Not enough sleep, and they could find her. She needed to stay on the move, but she also needed to lie low. It was survival.

So the second she opened her hotel door, she sensed it.

Someone was inside.

She barely had time to think "Not again!" before her reflexes kicked in and her left hand let go of the doorknob instantly. Her forearm blocked her visitor's arm against the door. It slammed almost shut. A man had been hiding behind it, also holding a gun in her direction.

The gun fired once at the contact. Sarah turned to face her visitor right away, flattening him against the door, her left hand maintaining a hold on his wrist. She tried to slam it once against the door, and make him loosen his grip. It didn't work.

He was strong, and didn't seem bothered by Sarah's quick reaction. He proved it by simply pushing away her right arm, like she hadn't been applying any pressure, and shoved her backward by the shoulder. Sarah had to let go of his wrist, taking two steps backwards to keep her balance. Still relaxed, the man attempted to point his firearm back at her.

He underestimated Sarah. He gave her enough time to throw a roundhouse kick with her left leg that crashed into his hand. This time, the gun went flying across the room, smashing something in the process, by the sound of it. Using the momentum from her kick, Sarah swung right for his face.

_Ouch!_

The man was a rock. He didn't even flinch under her knuckles. If Sarah hadn't felt a little bit of fear for the first time since she entered the room, she would have been annoyed. She knew how to throw a punch, damn it!

Not missing a beat, the man's hand came to circle her throat, and he yanked, exchanging their positions. Her back crashed against the door. The gun at the waistband of her jeans would leave a nice bruise. She couldn't even reach for it. His other hand had grabbed her right palm.

He tightened his hold. It became hard to breathe.

She had expected this to happen sooner or later. She had hoped for a clean bullet rather than being choked to death, though, and she still wasn't prepared to go just yet.

So, she mustered all the strength she had left, and brought her left hand behind her back. She pulled out one of her knives, and stabbed his right shoulder as hard as she could.

Sarah's vision blurred as she took a welcome breath. And blindly, she let go of the knife and grabbed the back of her assailant's injured shoulder. Leaning on her left foot, she thrust her right knee into his thigh.

She heard his pained groan as her eyes cleared. Her right hand finally free, she put all her effort into pushing him violently out of reach. As he stumbled backward, her right foot kicked out once more. She bent her leg, and leaned into the door to strike him in the stomach.

He lost his balance again, but didn't fall. She wasn't sure what would make him. He was _really_ tough. The move put enough distance between them, though. And when he readied himself to assault her again, her handgun was out.

"Don't move!" she shouted. Her finger worked the safety off; he stopped.

It was her chance. She could finally get some answers. Sarah needed the man to talk.

"Who are you working for?"

He just smirked at her. _Now_ , she was annoyed. She didn't have time for this. And she hated smirkers.

"Who sent you?" she asked. Sarah's feet shuffled on the floor. That's when his hand moved. "Don't!"

But he did. He tried something.

Sarah's Smith and Wesson went out thrice.

––––o–––––o––––

 

_**August 2, 2009** _

"So, uh, I'll see you at Castle later?" Chuck said, entering the apartment complex with Casey.

He had picked Chuck up at the airport—Shaw's order. They wanted to make sure Chuck had his cover story straight. So, after a brief greeting, Casey had made Chuck recite every detail of his fake three months long European journey. They had settled into small talk after that, which meant Chuck had done all the talking, and Casey had commented with an always impressive variety of grunts. Chuck had been fine with that. It was nice to come back to their old ways; something familiar after months of new experiences.

"You just came back from three months of training, and got the week off. Don't you want to spend time with your sister?" Casey said, and stopped at his front door.

"Sure, sure I do. But Ellie will have to go to work later anyway. And I'm sure the 'Welcome back, Chuck' party will come soon enough."

"You don't have a car yet," Casey pointed out.

"Oh. Right," Chuck said with a frown. He hadn't thought about that. He wouldn't be back at the Buy More for a week—he wasn't very excited at the prospect of going back to work there, but at least the government had managed to get rid of Emmet by offering him a higher position far away from Burbank—so he wouldn't have the Herder until next Monday. "I'll take a cab, then." Although, he hadn't expected much chatting from Casey on the ride home (this was Casey after all), he had had a nagging feeling that Casey wanted to talk to him about something. And, Chuck had some things he wanted to talk about with Casey too, but he didn't want to tell him that.

The door of Casa Bartowski opened. "Chuck!" Ellie said, squealing at the doorway, before turning to Casey. "Hey, John. Thank you for driving Chuck from the airport. That was very nice of you."

Casey gave her a smile. It always surprised Chuck how Casey could actually seem _nice_ when his sister was around. "Come by my apartment later, Chuck," Casey said. "We'll have coffee," he added for Ellie's benefit, and disappeared into his apartment.

Wheeling his suitcase behind him, Chuck walked to Ellie. "Hey, sis," he said, grinning. God, it was good to see her.

She grabbed him into a tight hug. "It's great to see you."

"You too, El." They broke the hug, and Chuck saw Ellie's eyes slightly watering. "Hey," he said, "I was only gone for three months."

"I know, I know," Ellie replied, going back into the apartment and holding the door for him. "I just missed you."

Chuck stopped to give her a kiss on the cheek when he passed her. "I've missed you too, Ellie."

She closed the door and composed herself, before asking how his flight was.

Chuck set his suitcase behind the couch. "Good, I mostly slept through it," he said with a smile. He didn't want her to worry about him.

"Jet lag will probably hit you soon, though." She walked to the kitchen. "How about coffee? I only have to go to the hospital in half an hour."

"Yeah, thanks," he answered as he followed her.

"Just take a seat. I'll do it."

"I've lived here before you know, I can do it," he teased.

"Can't I just prepare coffee for my little brother?" she said, already pouring a mug.

"Fine," he laughed and moved to sit at the table. "Is Devon already at the hospital?"

"Yeah, he should come home in the afternoon, but he'll probably need to sleep."

"Well, I'll be around enough. We'll have time to catch up," Chuck said. "I guess I'll just have to play Halo with Morgan to occupy myself."

Ellie laughed as she came back with two mugs. "I'm sure it will be an enormous sacrifice on your part." Chuck grinned at her. "Say 'Hi' for me then, I haven't heard from him lately."

"Will do," Chuck said with a nod. "You two are sure it's fine that I move back here for now, right?"

"Of course," she said almost affronted.

"Okay," he chuckled again. "So, Ellie, how's married life going?"

"Good. We've been pretty busy at the hospital since we came back from our honeymoon." Chuck nodded. "But who cares about me? You're the one coming back from Europe! How was it?"

Chuck sighed inwardly. He hated this part. The lies had always been difficult, but now more than ever the guilt was tearing at him. A few months ago, he could still tell himself that he didn't have a choice; that he had been brought into the spy world against his will. It didn't make it better, but he could delude himself into thinking it was. Now, though, there was no delusion. He had made the choice when he downloaded the Intersect 2.0, and left for Prague. He had chosen this life, and the lies that it entailed.

"Great," he said. "I mean, it was really cool," he added with more conviction. "But you've already practically seen it all with all the pictures I sent you."

"Yeah, I guess. That won't keep you from telling me all about it again later." Her expression changed suddenly, and she took on her big sister voice. "And how are you, Chuck?"

"I'm good," Chuck said, "I'm good."

Ellie didn't seem convinced.

"Look, uh, I'm not saying it hasn't been tough," Chuck said, turning his gaze to the mug in front of him. Lying about the places he had visited was one thing, but this… "We've been together for almost two years." He paused, thinking back to that day at the train station and the following answers Beckman had given him. "But…it's for the best."

Ellie hesitated then. Knowing her, she was probably restraining herself from bombarding him with questions.

"Have you heard from her? Where is she now?" Ellie asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.

That was kind of the $1,000,000 question. Where was she? And why didn't she call? "She's in D.C.," Chuck said instead, playing with his spoon. "She, uh, she moved back there."

Chuck looked up at Ellie then, and she must have seen something in his eyes for she said, "Oh Chuck, I'm sorry," and she reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said, "me too."

––––o–––––o––––

 

_**August 6, 2009** _

Damn it!

Sarah hadn't wanted to kill him. She hadn't wanted to lose the opportunity to finally learn _something_. She hadn't hesitated, though. He had tried to kill her. He'd have tried again.

She bent forward, her right hand still holding her gun and resting on her knee. While she lifted her left palm to her throat and took a minute to breathe, the memory of the stranglehold brought a fit of coughs. That had been close. The sensation of his hand still on her neck made her shiver as she tried to stabilize her breathing. She didn't have time to reflect now. Her body could use the rest, but her instincts were crying at her to move. She needed to get out of here. There weren't many people around, and even if someone had heard the gunfire, they might not report it in this neighborhood of Victorville, California she had chosen. Either way, she couldn't risk it.

When the coughing stopped, she put her gun back in her waistband, wiped her sleeve on her forehead, and looked around the rinky-dink room. His weapon had exploded the lamp on the bedside table. At her feet, she saw the groceries she had come back with. They had fallen to the floor and blocked the threshold. She picked up what was left of them. Her right hand was hurting like hell; bruising was starting to appear. She closed the door with her hip.

After throwing the food in her travel bag, she took a bottle of water from it, and drank. It felt like heaven. Then, not wasting any time, she walked back to her dead attacker. Blood was starting to spread all over the carpet. Careful not to dirty herself in the process, she searched his body. He was only wearing a dark grey t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, so she made a quick job of it. He had another pistol and his car keys on him and that was it. She'd have to check his car out; she might find something there.

Sarah had wiped her prints in the room before leaving to buy something to eat—she liked to be thorough, and clearly it was a good thing—so it didn't take her long to clean the place. They'd probably still know she had been here, but it might slow them down a bit. Any time she could buy herself, she'd have to take it. Still breathing heavily, she grabbed her bag, and made sure she hadn't left anything behind, before exiting the room in search of the man's car.

She found it rapidly. Sarah went where _she_ would have parked the car if she had come to discreetly assassinate somebody in this hotel. There were a few parking spaces safe from prying eyes a couple of streets away. She'd have parked there herself, but she'd rather keep an eye on her car. She could never be too prudent these days. Although, if she had had a Mercedes S550, she would have hidden it as well. Sure, it had nothing on her old Porsche, but it was nicer than the dump she was currently driving. Sarah had been short on money lately, so she had been forced to make sacrifices. And it also helped not to attract attention.

Sarah opened the driver's door and slipped inside. The GPS had been deactivated. In the glove box, she found the car rental papers, along with the probably fake ID—Florian Kaufmann—her assassin had been using. She took the papers and checked all the other compartments. They were empty. She cleaned after herself rigorously, and went to open the trunk. Nothing. Whoever he had been, Sarah's attacker had been very cautious. He knew what he was doing. She lifted the trunk floor to check the spare wheel.

_Ah-ha!_

There wasn't a spare wheel. Instead she found two guns, a very nice Benchmade folding knife, some money, and a laptop. She took everything and put it into her car, which she had parked next to this one. No need to stay close to the scene. She didn't intend on using the guns and knife—keeping the belongings of the people she had killed wasn't exactly her thing—but she didn't want to leave anything behind. She'd make them disappear later. She came back to the man's car and drove it into a more visible parking place, leaving the keys in the ignition and the window open. It wouldn't take long for someone to steal it. That would buy her some time as well.

After she walked back to her car, Sarah decided to check the laptop. If there was something in it, she wanted to know now. Unsurprisingly, it was password protected. She doubted she'd make anything of it. She didn't have the resources now, and since they had found her again, she desperately needed to disappear. Having someone work on it for her wasn't an option either. If she just waited, the information might become obsolete. She'd have to send it to the CIA and hope that there was at least one decent person left there—a long shot.

Maybe she should just send it to Chuck.

No, that was too dangerous. Coming back to California had obviously been a mistake. If they figured out that she had come back because of Chuck, they'd go after him. And that wasn't out of the realm of possibility since he was back in Burbank now. Ellie had lifted the suspensions of Chuck's (numerous) nerdy magazines subscriptions a few days ago. That's how she had figured out he was coming home. She should have waited longer before coming here to see him. She knew she should have…

But it had been two months already. What did he think had happened when she didn't show up at the train station in Prague? Did he think she had changed her mind? Did he know she was on the run? Did he believe that she was _rogue_?

Sarah sighed. There was no time for self pity either. She'd have to go to San Diego, and make it look like that had been where she had intended to go the whole time—emptying out an old locker or something—and then probably head to Mexico. It was risky continuing to stay in California, but she needed to make sure they didn't suspect Chuck. If they found out about him, they might try to use him. Or worse; they might just be waiting for her to lead them to him. The Human Intersect. She didn't know what they wanted with her. With this second attack, it was doubtful that he was the one they wanted. Lisbon hadn't been a fluke, they clearly had tried to kill her twice, and not use her. Nevertheless, she couldn't take any chances. Not with his life.

Maybe this attack had been a sign. First Prague, now this. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

Chuck might be better off not knowing—and better off without her. She hadn't protected him for two years to put his life in danger now. She had failed him, and now he was on his way to becoming a spy. Eventually, she'd have to accept that she wasn't going to get her life back. Not the one she had known, or wanted. If she made it out of this ordeal alive, there wouldn't be much left for her. Staying away from Chuck was the best protection she could offer him right now, however, so that was what she'd have to do.

Her stomach growled, and it snapped her out of her thoughts. She took a few seconds in her seat to relax her body. The adrenaline was wearing off. She'd have to eat soon, but she could do it on the road. She should already be gone. So, she neatly put away everything in a bag, leaving the food on the passenger seat.

"Welcome back to California, Sarah," she muttered as she turned on the ignition, and drove away.

––––o–––––o––––

 

_**August 2, 2009** _

"So, uh, where are we going?"

Chuck had a bad feeling about this.

After emptying his suitcase, he had gone to Casey's apartment like planned. However, Casey hadn't let him in to offer him a drink. Instead, he had simply ordered Chuck to follow him, and they had gotten into the Crown Vic.

And Casey was…edgy. When a guy like Casey was edgy, it was not reassuring.

But that wasn't all; it got worse. Casey was actually being _nice_ to Chuck. He hadn't made any snarky comments yet. Not one. He had offered him a mint. He had let Chuck choose the music. He had even called him Chuck once. Clearly, something wasn't right.

"You'll see," Casey said. "Nothing to worry about, Bartowski," he added, perhaps feeling Chuck's uneasiness.

Chuck all but let out a sigh of relief at hearing his last name. He shuffled in the passenger seat and decided to wait. He could try the I-won't-stop-talking-until-you-tell-me-what's-going-on technique, he had mastered it by now, but Casey obviously had something in mind. So he would wait; it shouldn't take too long.

It was a little weird with it being just the two of them. Shaw would join them at the end of the week but...it just wasn't the same. Chuck had been really busy in Europe, and despite the confusion, the questions he had for her, the hurt, he still missed Sarah everyday. He had a feeling he'd miss her even more in Burbank, going back to his old life, without her.

After a few minutes of silence, Casey spoke. "So how did the training go, Bartowski?"

Chuck turned his glance from the window to look at him. "Well, uh, the 2.0 has been a little glitchy at first, but—"

"Glitchy?" Casey cut.

"Yeah, hmm, it's different than before. I have to call up the skills and, uh, it didn't always work."

"So you weren't flashing."

"Sometimes," Chuck nodded. "But I think I've got a hold on it now," he added.

"You _think_?"

"No, I do," Chuck corrected quickly. "I do. It's been working really well for some time now."

"Why do you think it wasn't working before? What changed?"

Chuck didn't have an answer to that, so he shrugged.

"You don't know?" Casey said accusingly.

"Haven't you read the reports?" Chuck said annoyed. Nobody knew. The white coats said it was probably Chuck's emotions that tampered with the Intersect, and prevented him from calling up the flashes. The Intersect had been meant for Bryce, a super agent, not him. But nobody was sure. And even if that was the cause, their "solution" hadn't been really helpful. How was Chuck supposed to control all of his emotions? Hiding them during missions was difficult enough. He wasn't a machine. That's why they called him the _Human_ Intersect after all.

"Heh," Casey just grunted. So he had read the reports. What was this all about, then? Casey turned a scowl at the radio. "What the hell is this thing?"

"It's the new Tyler Martin. I thought I'd check it out."

"Make it stop," he commanded. Chuck changed the track before Casey asked another question. "What about Shaw? What's the guy like?"

"What's with the interrogation?" Chuck said. "I'm sure you've already read everything there is to know about my training in Prague." Two could play the same game, and if Casey wasn't going to answer him, why should he?

"I'm asking you, Bartowski," Casey said.

"I asked you where we were going, and I haven't heard you answering me, you know."

He expected Casey to snap, but instead he said, "We're here."

Chuck frowned and looked around. He had stopped paying attention to the road with all the questions. "Silver Lake?" he asked surprised.

"What's the matter, Bartowski," Casey said, unbuckling his belt, "too much nature for a geek?"

Chuck gave Casey a sarcastic smile, and followed him out of the car. "What are we doing here? You do know you can't shoot the birds like you were skeet shooting, right?"

Casey ignored him, looking around them like he'd do if he was checking a perimeter. He asked about Shaw again, leading the way.

"Well he—he's very professional." Chuck paused to think about it. "By the book agent," he added. "Hmm, not exactly chatty, so you guys should get along fine."

Casey simply grunted again, setting a fast pace along the granite pedestrian path. They passed by a basketball court, where a game was raging, some picnic tables, and the dog park. Chuck hoped Casey wasn't taking him on a hike.

"What about you, Casey? How have you been?" Chuck wasn't sure what Casey had been up to during his time in Europe. All he knew was that he had maintained his cover with Ellie, and stayed in Echo Park. Maybe Awesome had taken him running over here; Chuck knew that the Captain liked to jog around the water reservoirs. Chuck quickened his pace to keep up.

"I've been stuck here babysitting your cover, what do you think?"

"O-kay. Not good then," Chuck said.

Another grunt.

"Well, uh, now I'm back, so…" Chuck trailed off when Casey came to a halt between two trees, nodding to himself.

"Sit down, Bartowski," Casey said with a nod to the gray retaining wall separating the walking path from the road. His tone wasn't open to discussion, so Chuck complied as Casey continued looking around. What exactly was going on?

"Did you hear from Walker?" Casey asked out of the blue.

Chuck was taken aback by the question. He had wanted to ask Casey about Sarah ever since he had picked him up at the airport, but he didn't want to sound too pathetic. No need to give Casey more material for nasty comments. Chuck had decided to act casual, and to breach the subject when the time was right.

Now, though, casual was starting to be difficult. Why would Casey be the one to ask? Had something happened to Sarah?

They were supposed to go off grid together two months ago, but she had never made it to their rendezvous point. When he hadn't seen her in Prague, Chuck had asked Beckman where Sarah was. He had obviously not mentioned the part about running, but he had wondered if she'd figured it out anyway when Beckman seemed uneasy about his question. He didn't know why she'd been surprised by him asking about Sarah. He had thought his feelings for her had been pretty obvious to everyone.

Nevertheless, Beckman had explained to him that Sarah had left on an extremely important and sensitive covert operation, and couldn't be reached. Why Sarah had taken the assignment without even letting him know, he had no idea, especially since she had seemed so adamant about him not going through with his training and becoming a real spy.

Maybe she had just changed her mind about them. Maybe the assignment she had taken was too important to pass up. He didn't know. Whatever her reason, leaving without telling him anything wasn't okay. It had hurt him. However, he wasn't sure if he could blame her for changing her mind when he had been going to their meet with the intention of not following through on their plan. He wanted to be with Sarah, but the spy life had also been calling him. He could save lives with the Intersect 2.0, what he had in his head was important; and he could finally do something with his life.

He had asked Beckman several times throughout the last two months, hoping to hear from Sarah, but nothing. He was told the same thing every time. He had hoped that once he was back home, he would find out more. Now it seemed he might have that chance.

"No, hmm, last I heard was that she was still undercover," he said. From his standing position in front of where Chuck was sitting, Casey looked at him carefully, like he was trying to gauge Chuck's reactions. "Why?" Chuck tried to sound detached, but he doubted Casey would buy it. "Do you know where she is?" Casey looked at him with an almost sympathetic expression then, and Chuck's heart started to beat faster. "Did something happen during her mission?"

Casey wasn't the most thoughtful person when it came to bad news. He liked to rip off the Band-Aid, and he usually enjoyed making fun of Chuck's miserable existence in the process. Seeing him hesitate was _not_ a good sign.

"No, not exactly," Casey said.

"What does that mean?" Chuck replied, his voice getting louder. What the hell was going on? Did Sarah get hurt? Was she… No, Chuck wouldn't go there. And what was taking Casey so long to answer?

"There was never an undercover mission," Casey finally said. "It was a cover up. Beckman didn't want the word to get out too soon, so she made it look like Walker was on a covert operation."

Chuck's eyes widened and he took a few seconds to process, staring at his partner. "Didn't want the word to get out about what, Casey?" This was really starting to freak Chuck out. "Where's Sarah? Is she okay?"

"She's off the grid, Chuck," Casey answered. "We don't know where she is."

Chuck could feel himself sweating under his shirt. What the frak? "What do you mean you don't know where she is? What happened?"

"She went rogue..." Casey said something else after that, but Chuck didn't hear the words. Sarah went rogue? Sarah didn't go rogue. She was the most loyal person he knew. She'd never do that.

"Ah-ah, that's very funny, Casey," Chuck heard himself say. "You got me for a second," he wiped his hand on his pants and stood up, but Casey blocked his way, locking both of their gazes.

"I'm serious, Chuck," he said, and this time there was no denying it. Casey was dead serious about this.

"But…but that's ridiculous," Chuck said, shocked that Casey actually thought it was true. "Come on, it's Sarah."

"Yeah well, she's committed treason before," Casey said pointedly.

"To protect _me_ ," Chuck said angrily. "You know that… I can't believe this." He started to pace, and kicked one of his chucks against a tree. It hurt.

"The CIA does. The only reason they haven't put out a burn notice on her is because they want to keep it quiet."

"And you're buying it?"

Casey shrugged. How could he stand here and just _shrug_? Sarah was his partner. They had worked together for almost two years, putting their lives in each other's hands everyday.

"We need to find her," Chuck said.

"No. We don't."

"W-what?" The coldness in Casey's voice made Chuck stop his pacing. He looked fiercely at Casey. "What happened to _Semper Fi_ , huh?"

" _Semper Fi_ doesn't apply to traitors," he said.

Chuck couldn't take this any longer. "Sarah isn't a traitor!" he said, coming head to head with Casey. The older man wasn't having any of it, though. He grabbed Chuck by the shoulders with two firm hands, and made him sit back on the retaining wall.

"Listen to me, Bartowski," he said, his tone as firm as the hands keeping Chuck in place. "The CIA isn't joking around. They're after her, and everyone that stands in their way. Whatever she did, it's bad."

"So?" Chuck replied, still angry. "It doesn't make it true!"

"I'm serious, Chuck," Casey said. "You're staying out of this."

Staying out it? It was Sarah for Christ's sake! What was he supposed to do? Wait for her to get captured or killed?

"I'm not leaving her on her own," Chuck said. "No way."

Chuck crossed his arms in defiance. Casey didn't budge.

"Yes, you will," he said. "You won't be doing anybody any favors by getting yourself arrested."

Who cared about that when Sarah was out there alone?

Casey released his hold on Chuck. "Besides, chances are you're just going to lead them to her. Walker's tough. She'll get through this."

Chuck's anger was slowly fading as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs and watching his hands. Incomprehension set in. He now knew the real reason why he hadn't heard from Sarah at all since he'd left Burbank. What he didn't know was what had really happened and why Sarah was declared rogue. He didn't believe for a second that Sarah would actually go rogue.

"Look," Casey said, and Chuck craned his neck to look up. "Maybe she didn't go rogue, or if she did, maybe she had her reasons. There's just no way to know for sure right now. The CIA has locked the case so tightly, only the people on a need-to-know basis have details of what Walker is accused of. And there aren't many, trust me."

So Casey had asked about it. "What did Beckman tell you?" Chuck asked, running a hand through his hair.

"She said you weren't to be made aware of the situation."

"What?" Chuck could feel the anger coming back. Who was she to make that kind of decision about his life? He wasn't an asset anymore.

"You're too valuable," Casey said. "With the Intersect not always working, they don't want to mess you up. It's too much of a risk. Even without the _glitches_ , they wouldn't want the Intersect involved in whatever it is that Walker got herself into."

"I don't care," Chuck said loudly. He wasn't going to accept the 'You're-the-Intersect' card. He knew that wasn't Casey's fault but… Wait. "Why are you telling me now, then?" Casey had played along with Beckman's lies when Chuck had talked to him over the phone in June.

Casey shrugged again. "I thought you should know," he said simply. He sat down beside Chuck and the two men remained silent for several minutes, staring at the lake in front of them through the fence.

It was a beautiful summer day; hot, but with enough of a breeze not to rot outside. The sun was shining bright. The sky was cloudless. Pedestrians, joggers, and the kids and families around them seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was the perfect contrast with what Chuck was feeling at the moment.

Casey resumed talking, "I know you won't consider it, but you've seen enough of this life to know that nothing is ever simple."

Chuck sighed, and shook his head in disbelief. The government had been lying to him for two months now. Nothing had changed apparently. Except that one of his ex-handlers were missing, and the other one was telling him there was nothing he could do about it.

"You see things in black and white," Casey went on, "but it's more complicated than that. And you need to be very careful. You can't just nose around."

"But she's alone out there," Chuck said.

"Maybe she isn't. Who knows?" Casey said. "What I do know, however, is that Walker wouldn't want _you_ to get in trouble."

Casey was right. Sarah had spent two years protecting Chuck from everything that threatened him. The more he discovered about the spy life, the more he realized the true scope of what Sarah had done for him. And he knew it was probably true that she would want him to just stay away. Maybe that was why she hadn't called. Maybe she had help. Maybe she was fine, on a sunny beach, sipping on a cocktail with a nice colorful umbrella.

But Chuck couldn't bet on maybes. This was Sarah. If the situation was reversed, she'd do everything in her power to help him, whatever the consequences. He truly believed that. And to hell with Beckman. He may have considered listening to her if she had come clean to him when he went to her all those weeks ago. He may have followed the rules, and do things on her terms. But she'd chosen to hide Sarah's "betrayal" from him—to lie. Well, they had taught him how to lie as well.

He needed to find Sarah.


	3. The Phone Call

_**October 23, 2009** _

"Okay, Chuck, now look for a painting, a photograph, or a poster on the walls," Shaw said over his earpiece.

Chuck looked around the room he had just slipped into. He was in Thomas Storman's office, an arms dealer that worked with the Ring. "There are three of them."

"Let me take a look." Chuck was wearing glasses equipped with a camera. The video was relayed to the van outside, in order for Shaw to follow Chuck's movements. When his eyes landed on a picture of a skyline, Shaw said, "That one."

Curious, Chuck called up the Intersect and flashed on it. It was a skyline of Montréal. The memory of his in-flight mission two weeks ago came back to him, but Chuck promptly put the thought aside. Now wasn't the time.

"There must be some kind of mechanism on the frame to move it, and reach the safe," Shaw explained.

Chuck ran his fingers around the picture. "Found it," he said, while clicking on the button, immediately making the photograph slide to the side on the wall.

"Good. Our analysts couldn't determine exactly what kind of security the safe is using," Shaw said, "but the Intersect can crack any code. Use it, and flash on the combination."

He shouldn't have flashed on the Montréal photo before. Two flashes in a row were more demanding. He'd have to remember that next time, and wait for _after_ the hard work to satisfy his curiosity. "Flash on the combination, got it," Chuck said to no one in particular, rolling his shoulders a little bit to relax. He stared at the keypad in front of him. There weren't any numbers on it, just unmarked keys. That was part of the security.

The flash came easily, and after entering the code, Chuck heard the safe's lock go off. He opened the door. "A golden briefcase?" he asked skeptically.

"Just take it, Chuck."

He did, and shut the safe's door. "You'd think they'd opt for something more discreet," he mused, while waiting for the frame to slide back in place. "I mean, it's a bit flashy, don't you—" Chuck stopped, and turned toward the door when he heard a sound coming from outside the room. "Someone's coming."

"Just get back, Chuck, we've got what we need," Shaw told him.

There wasn't time to climb on the desk, and pull himself back into the air duct by the ceiling, though. He needed to hide. On his left, built-in shelves were taking up the majority of the wall the entrance was on. Across the room, there were only a bar, and an armchair and a sofa around a coffee table. He wouldn't have time to go hide behind the door. So, he crouched down on his right behind the imposing desk, tucking away the briefcase case with him, and turned off his comm.

The key turned in the bolt, and the door opened. Chuck pulled out his tranq gun. He could still do this quietly; put the intruder (Was it an intruder when Chuck was the one snooping around?) to sleep, and go back the way he'd come. He took a deep breath, but remained silent, and sneaked a peek once the door had been closed. There was only one man, who was seemingly looking for a break from the party, as he walked to the sofa while loosening his tie, and sat down. Perfect. The man only had time to lift his palm to his neck in confusion, before the effect of the dart set in, making him collapse unconscious on the sofa.

Phew! Chuck was lucky the man was alone. He put away his tranq gun, and walked over to him. No flash. The man would remember being tranqued, because Chuck wasn't using twilight darts tonight. He still retrieved the projectile to make sure the owner wouldn't know it was the government that had stolen his _golden_ briefcase. Then he climbed back into the ventilation system.

"I had forgotten how exhausting this—ouch," Chuck said as he crawled his way through the ventilation system. "I'm gonna have some bruises on my knees again." His six feet four long body wasn't made to contort like this. Not when he wasn't getting much fun out of it, anyway.

"What's taking you so long, Bartowski?" Casey piped in.

"I'm almost there, Casey," Chuck answered out of breath. "Sheesh."

"The bathroom's clear, Chuck," Shaw said as he arrived at his destination. Chuck had installed a camera there earlier, so that Shaw could monitor the room. "Casey, get into position."

"Roger that."

Chuck jumped into the bathroom, and put the ventilation cover back in place. He slipped into the jacket he had stashed there, and put the camera back in his pocket. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw that he was a bit disheveled, so he took a minute to straighten his suit and catch his breath. He didn't want to look like he had just experienced a really bad moment in the bathroom. Again.

Charles Carmichael was attending one of those chic cocktail parties the bad guys seemed to love throwing. Today, they were at Storman's house to steal something related to the Ring. Well, house probably wasn't the right term. Estate or _really_ large property would be more accurate. And they say crime doesn't pay.

Casey was attending as part of the catering staff; both for back up and to extract what Chuck had stolen from Storman's office. Chuck found him with one of the trolleys the caterer's employees were using as he slipped outside the bathroom. "So, what now?" he asked after handing Casey the briefcase.

"You go back, and have a drink or whatever you geeks do at parties," Casey answered, while putting away the object into the trolley. Then to Chuck's surprise, he looked up at him awkwardly. "Good job in there," he said, and flew the scene. Casey was still adjusting to their new partnership status. Compliments weren't his forte, but he had been a great partner since Chuck got back in August.

"We'll call you when we're ready to leave," Shaw added.

Chuck did as he was told, and went back to the party. He checked his cell phone on his way to the buffet. He might as well get something out of the evening. Morgan had called him twice. He pondered calling him back now, but thought better of it. He'd have to call him back when he got home.

Chuck sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. These soirées were so _boring_ alone. Not for the first time, he thought back to all the evenings like this one that he had spent with Sarah. Being a spy wasn't as exciting without her. He wondered where she was now. Chuck often tried to imagine what she was doing when he had an off moment during the day. He hadn't had very pleasant thoughts after her no-show at the train station, and they only got worse when he came back to Burbank. Now, after the plane, his thoughts somehow got even worse. Chuck had seen how exhausted she was. How long would she be able to hold up through the manhunt? Thoughts like that made it hard to concentrate on anything but Sarah, so he kept busy as much as he could.

He went to the bar, hoping he wouldn't have to stay much longer. A drink might help not to think too hard while he was waiting.

After the flight he had shared with Sarah, Chuck had spent three days turning over in his mind every single second of their moment together. He had thought about what he should have done differently, had wished he had said something to make her talk or stay, or that he had gotten off the plane and followed her. Until she had called him like he'd hoped.

However, the phone call hadn't been what he had expected. It had sounded awfully like a goodbye. She wanted him to stop. Whatever he was doing—and she knew he was probably looking for her she had told him, the secure phone had given it away—he needed to drop it. It wasn't safe. Chuck had tried to explain that it didn't matter, and asked her to meet with him. She was very adamant about the fact that she couldn't come back to California, and wouldn't listen to anything he said, pointing out that he was the Intersect, and that they'd figure things out, considering they must keep surveillance on him constantly.

Sarah was partially right. In his apartment, only his bedroom and the bathroom remained bug-free. He had made sure of it. He needed _some_ privacy, he had argued. He still swept the place for bugs every night, and locked his "Sarah files" (that's how he had come to call them in his head) away to be certain, but he hadn't found anything in his room so far. Outside though, there was surveillance everywhere. The rest of the apartment, the courtyard, the parking lot, the Buy More… He wasn't monitored twenty-four/seven because he could take care of himself now that he had the Intersect 2.0, but if the need presented itself, they could find him straight away. He wore his watch at all times. And if he wasn't where he was supposed to be, they could ask him about it later.

Chuck leaned heavily on the bar, and ordered another martini.

Sarah hadn't let him argue after that, ending their conversation abruptly on a "Please, don't come after me." Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Chuck thought Sarah's resolve had been slowly fading through the discussion. He didn't doubt she wanted him to stay out of trouble, but she had taken his number and called him. She didn't have to. It had to mean something.

"Bartowski, stop drinking," Casey said through the earpiece.

"Why? Is there something in it?" Chuck asked with alarm, and put down his glass. He had watched the bartender prepare it, though. He'd gotten a little paranoid after the last time he had been poisoned.

"Yes. It's called alcohol, and it'll get you drunk," Casey answered. "Time to go."

The ride back to Castle was silent. Chuck was tired, and wanted to get home. He was curious about what was inside the briefcase, though, and Shaw and Casey might find it suspicious if he went home. So, he followed them inside, and they gathered around a table.

"What is it, a weapon?" Casey asked, as Shaw was taking an oval item out of the briefcase.

"No, it's a lockbox. It belonged to a spy I had inside the Ring," Shaw answered. "It's all of the intel the agent had."

"A lockbox?" Chuck asked. "How do we open it, then?"

"Remember your first solo mission?" Shaw said, moving to one of Castle's locker.

Well yeah, how could he forget? But it wasn't for the reason Shaw thought. Chuck had been so happy to see Sarah again that day, despite the circumstances, but now he hadn't heard from her since she had called him. And he wasn't sure what to do anymore. He had nothing. He had gone through every mission file that mentioned Sarah he could find. He had analyzed them over and over during the last two months. And so far, he hadn't come up with anything useful. Although, Sarah would probably like to know that Amy had been the mole within the CAT Squad, not Zondra.

Shaw came back to the table, interrupting Chuck's musings, with the crypto key Chuck had retrieved on the plane to Montréal. He opened the lockbox with it, revealing several disks and an envelope. "With this, we might stand a chance, and one of our best didn't die in vain," he said, before taking the envelope and heading to his office. Chuck looked at Casey with a questioning expression, but he apparently didn't know what it was either.

He followed Shaw. "What's in the envelope?" Chuck asked, walking into the other man's office.

From a sitting position behind his desk, Shaw looked up glumly at Chuck, and silently extended the envelope. When Chuck pulled out a ring from it, Shaw explained. "She was killed by a Ring agent five years ago. Her name was Evelyn Shaw. Eve."

Shaw's wife was the agent he had inside the Ring? They killed his wife? This was why he had tracked them all these years, becoming the CIA Ring expert? "I'm sorry," Chuck said, giving him back the wedding ring.

"That's why they say spies shouldn't fall in love, Chuck. Now you know not to make the same mistake I did."

Chuck nodded like he understood, but it was a little late for that.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Are you sure?"

"I can't flip the shrimp, Chuck," Morgan told him over the phone.

"I know, I know, but… Is that what you really want?" Chuck asked, putting his bug detector back into his desk drawer. Like he did every night, he turned on his secure cell phone.

"What's left for me here, Chuck? I've got no job, and no girlfriend."

Chuck sighed and collapsed onto his bed. He had been on the phone with Morgan for twenty minutes now, so he had started getting ready for bed. Anna had left his best friend for the prep chef. And to complete his misery, he had just been canned from Benihana. He couldn't flip the shrimp, apparently.

"I just want you to be sure, Morgan," Chuck said. "I don't want you to regret not doing everything you could to get her back."

"Do you?"

"What?" Chuck said surprised.

"Do you regret not going after Sarah?" he clarified.

Oh, right. Officially, he and Sarah had broken up during Chuck's vacation in Europe. He hadn't gotten into too many specifics with Ellie, Awesome, and Morgan, and although his sister showed some resistance to letting it go at first, they had. They weren't happy about it—they loved Sarah—but they didn't seem all that surprised either. Undoubtedly, it was the result of two years of a complicated cover relationship. Devon had figured that Sarah was off on another mission, but they avoided talking about Chuck's other job whenever possible. Devon had been curious about the spy life at first, but after a while, he had realized that the less he knew, the less he had to lie to his wife.

Since then, Chuck had refused to talk about dating again, saying that even if he was moving on with his life, it was still too soon to think about getting involved with someone else. They hadn't pressured him on the subject, accepting his decision. But he had a feeling Ellie would start talking to him soon about some of the wonderful friends from the hospital she had.

"Sometimes," Chuck said simply. "But it was different." Chuck hated lying about this. He'd do anything to see Sarah again.

"I know," Morgan replied. "I just…I think I need to come home."

"Okay, well, you know you're welcome—" A vibrating sound emanated from Chuck's drawer, stopping him. "Here," he finished. "Morgan I've got to go, but I'll call you back, okay." Not waiting for a response, he hung up, and rushed from his bed to open the drawer and pull out his secure phone.

"Hello," he said, suddenly breathless.

There was a brief moment of silence, before Sarah answered.

"Hi, Chuck," Sarah said, and his heart immediately beat faster at the sound of her voice.

"Sarah, hey. Listen," Chuck said right away; he wasn't going to lose the opportunity. "I'm glad you called. I've figured it out."

"What?" she asked confused. She also sounded far-off.

"I know how we can see each other," he explained, and without giving her time to protest he carried on. "The Buy More does seminars for their employees. The next one's next month in Seattle. We could meet there."

On the other end of the line, Sarah said nothing. The background noise drowned out her silence, and Chuck couldn't help but wonder where she was. It seemed loud.

"Wouldn't Casey have to come with you?" she eventually asked, sounding skeptical.

"No, he'd have to stay at the Buy More here," he said, and sat down on his desk chair. "It's a Nerd Herder seminar, green shirts can't go there. It would just be me."

After what he'd learned about Shaw's wife tonight, any hesitation he might have had about helping Sarah was now a distant memory. Casey had pointed out that Sarah may not need any help; may not want any help. But after the plane, he didn't believe that. So, this was one time where he wouldn't try to follow in Shaw's footsteps. Unlike with Eve, it wasn't the Ring that was after Sarah, but it might as well have been. He wasn't going to let the same thing happen to her. Not without doing everything he could to prevent it. The advice he had given to Morgan regarding Anna minutes ago applied to him as well.

"I'll make it happen, okay. If there's surveillance, I'll take care of it before you come," he added.

He'd been trying to find a way to see Sarah since her first phone call. He had come up with this idea after running hundreds of scenarios through his mind. The seminar would give them enough time to talk, and hopefully convince her to let him help. He would tell Shaw that it would reinforce his cover at the Buy More. He'd convince Big Mike that he was serious about his Nerd Herd supervisor position—he was out of the store so often nowadays, it was a wonder nobody ever asked about it. Not to mention that Shaw had promised him a few days off from the spy life. And Ellie and Morgan wouldn't suspect a thing, either. This was perfect.

Chuck continued to explain his reasoning to Sarah, in order to prove he had thought things through. It was the only way he would convince her.

"Chuck," Sarah said and sighed, "I don't know."

"I promise you, I'll be careful. We can do this."

There was another pause. Chuck noticed that the smooth sound of the rain outside seemed oddly fitting given that he was talking about Seattle. He decided to try something else.

"Sarah, why are you calling?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Two weeks ago you told me to stay away. But, you came on that plane with me, and now you're calling. And I'm _really_ glad you did, but… You can make sure I'm fine, but I can't?" he said. "How is that fair?"

"Chuck…"

"Wait." He paused, a thought abruptly occurring to him. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine," she answered, a bit too fast for his liking. "I guess…I, uh…" She paused, hesitating. It might have been the noise behind her, but her voice was scarcely audible. She wasn't alright, he could tell.

"Sarah?"

"I guess I just wanted to hear your voice," she said quietly.

At that moment, Chuck felt something inside him stop. His eyes shut. God, he _really_ needed to see her.

"Chuck?" Sarah asked, and he realized he hadn't said anything.

"I'm here," he said quickly. "Then, then come meet me in Seattle," Chuck said. "Please. I know the risks, okay. And I'm fond of having a life, you know I am. I won't put you or me in danger. But…whether you want it or not," he said with determination. Maybe the martinis had been a good idea after all. "I decided. I'm not gonna stop until I know what's going on, and—"

"Fine," Sarah cut him off.

"W-what?" Did he hear her right?

"Okay, Chuck, I'll come to Seattle."


	4. The Seminar

_**November 5, 2009** _

"Chuck?"

Sarah had been staring at him for five minutes, standing in front of the bed, wondering if she should wake him up or let him sleep and talk to him in the morning. He was lying over the duvet fully clothed, though, so she assumed he'd been waiting for her.

She had arrived late, and waited a while before joining him in his hotel room, once she had found the key he'd left for her. She had wanted to make sure she hadn't been followed. And if she was being honest with herself, she also had been stalling, a little. She wanted to see him, she really wanted to see him, but…she was also _nervous_.

Chuck jerked awake and sat up abruptly, aiming a gun at her. "W-what?"

He had looked peaceful in his slumber, but Sarah had noticed the gun. He had fallen asleep with it in his palm. She had made Chuck Bartowski fall asleep with a weapon. She shouldn't have let him see her on the plane. She should have taken care of the stupid stewardess before things had gotten out of hand. She should have seen the stewardess poison Chuck's drink. She should have anticipated it. But it was too late now. He had seen her on the plane.

"It's me," she said.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening. Once he did, Sarah saw Chuck's shoulders loosen. "Hi," he said relieved, before placing his tranquilizer gun on the nightstand. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay." She felt her lips curl upward; he was still using tranq guns. "Hi, Chuck."

They looked at each other for a moment, motionless. What were they supposed to do now? Maybe she should have let him sleep. This was awkward. Fortunately, Chuck recovered first from their staring contest, and broke the silence.

"Are you, uh, hungry?"

"What?"

"I didn't know if you'd have eaten when you got here, so I, uh, bought you a footlong," Chuck said, and Sarah spun around to see what his finger was pointing at to her left. In the corner of the room, opposite the bed, were a sofa and a coffee table, with a laptop, a sandwich and a bottle of water on it.

"Oh." She hadn't thought about food, but now that Chuck had mentioned it, she was in fact starving. "Thanks, hmm," she said, and looked down at her hand, realizing that she was still holding her traveling bag. "A sandwich sounds great," she added, snapping out of her daze. She went to the table and put her bag on the ground, before sitting down on the couch. Chuck was watching her closely, likely wondering what was wrong with her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked as he took a more comfortable sitting position on the side of bed.

"Yes. Nobody followed me."

"Good," he said with a smile, "but that's not what I meant."

"I'm…fine." Sarah unwrapped her Subway sandwich, and took a bite. What was she supposed to say? That she'd been a wreck for the last five months? That wouldn't help. She opted for changing the subject instead. "How was today?"

"Fine. It was…" Chuck fixated on the table, searching for a word, "boring, I guess." He shrugged, smiling. "It's a Nerd Herd seminar."

Sarah nodded like she knew what he meant, but she figured she wouldn't quite understand all the nerd talk, so she didn't ask him to elaborate. After that, the two lapsed into quiet, and she enjoyed her dinner in silence. It was a simple roast beef sandwich, but Chuck had obviously asked for extra pickles on it. And it tasted _wonderful_.

She thought about what she came here to do: say goodbye, give Chuck closure, help him move on. She wasn't sure how to do it, or if she'd have the strength to. Judging by what he had told her during their meeting on the plane, and their following phone calls, it was clear that he wouldn't let go before he learned what had happened, and that he wouldn't accept what she had to say easily. Ever since she had agreed to meet with him, she had been looking for the right things to say, the right reasons to give, but as usual, words simply seemed to fail her.

After a little while, Chuck seemed unable to take the silence, for he said, "I waited for you." Sarah's eyebrows rose. "In Prague," he clarified.

Prague: their missed rendezvous.

Sarah swallowed a last bite. "I'm sorry." Memories of Lisbon filled her mind, and she closed her eyes momentarily. "I would have called, but...things got complicated."

She wanted to tell him she had been coming. She wanted to tell him it wasn't what he thought. She wanted him to know she'd tried. But did it really matter? She had failed him anyway.

Chuck surprised her with a simple, "Yeah." He had said the CIA wouldn't give him details on what had happened, but what he already knew couldn't be pretty. What was he even doing here with her? Why did he seem so okay with everything? She had basically stood him up in Prague, without giving him any explanation, all of it because she was a rogue agent. Believing that she was innocent was one thing, but had the situation been reversed, and Chuck had left her hanging like that, Sarah doubted she'd have been that understanding. "We can talk about it tomorrow," he said and stifled a yawn. "We should probably rest for now." He looked at the clock on the wall. "It's late."

She felt a wave of relief flow over her; he didn't need to tell her twice. She had one more night. "What's your schedule tomorrow?" she asked as she uncapped her water bottle.

"Hmm." Chuck narrowed his eyes in concentration. "I've got a conference at ten. I need to go because they'll probably have us sign up, but then I should be able to come back for lunch around one. They won't notice if I miss the afternoon."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll make sure," he said confidently. "Either way, I'll be here for lunch."

"Okay, well, I think I'm gonna take a shower," she said, standing up to escape for a few minutes.

Taking her bag, Sarah disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. She took a minute to gather herself, and regroup. Chuck had given her some time for now, but she knew she would have to give him some answers eventually. Not only were they necessary for him to let go, but he deserved them. She wasn't looking forward to it, though. Her time on the run wasn't the most enjoyable experience to relive, and she didn't want him to know about what had happened to her.

She slipped into the shower stall. The cut above her left hip still itched a little at the contact of the soap, and she tried to relax her body under the spray of hot water. She was tired, and Chuck's nearness, although soothing, unnerved her. It figured.

Her shower didn't last long. She'd have all the time she wanted in the bathroom tomorrow, waiting for Chuck. Once changed into a t-shirt and PJ pants—she didn't want to add another thing to deal with on top of their already long pile—she got back to the room, and found Chuck in similar sleepwear. She recognized his light brown t-shirt. It had a well worn, white inscription saying "Browncoat" between two stars. She wasn't sure what nerdy reference it was to, but for some reason, she was happy to see it.

Chuck was typing on his laptop. He looked up in her direction, and briefly stared at her again, before catching himself. "I hacked the video surveillance of the hotel, just in case," he said. "I can show you how it works, if you want to check on it tomorrow."

He wasn't kidding when he had said he would be careful. It didn't surprise her that he could do that, but she wasn't used to him acting so…spyish. It brought tightness to her chest, and not for the first time, she wondered how much he had changed during the half-year they'd been apart. There wasn't much she could do about it anymore, though. It was too late. And being in her life wouldn't exactly keep the spy life away.

"Uh, yes, that'd be great," she replied, and joined him on the sofa.

He explained to her everything, clicking away on the computer. When they were done, he spoke, sounding nervous. "I'll take the couch."

"It's fine, Chuck," she said, rising to her feet.

"You sure, because—"

"I'm sure." She tried to ease him with a smile, but he was still tensed when they got under the covers. It was strange to think that the last time they had slept in the same bed, Sarah had already been on the lam. However, he had been the one who needed to run then, not the other way around.

"How are Ellie and Awesome?" Sarah asked. She was looking at the ceiling, even though she couldn't see it in the dark.

"Good. They moved out two months ago. I think the CIA had something to do with it." Chuck turned on his side to face her. "Ellie had barely mentioned that they might look for a place, and next thing you know, the apartment across the courtyard was opening up." Sarah already knew. She had seen that the names of both leases had changed. "It helped with the cover, I didn't have to sneak around as much…or lie to her everyday."

"You're being careful though, right?" she said, and moved to mirror his position. "Ellie must still keep an eye on you."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he chuckled. She was grateful for the lighter conversation, but she wasn't sure she liked that he could laugh about it. "Morgan's living with me now anyway."

"Right." Chuck had told her that on the phone while they went over the last details of their trip. She was glad he still had his friends and family to ground him from the spy life. At least, he wasn't alone. And he was still maintaining a semblance of a normal life, despite the day-to-day grueling efforts it entailed. "You guys have your own bachelor pad now."

He laughed. "Now you sound just like him." That made her grin. It was good to hear his laugh.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that. Sarah tried not to think about the following day; they'd cross that bridge when they'd get to it. Right now, she wanted to sleep. She wanted to indulge herself in this last moment with him. And there in the darkness, facing each other safely under the bedclothes, she could just revel in his presence.

––––o–––––o––––

 

_**November 6, 2009** _

"Wait, and that was his whole explanation?" Sarah said, chuckling. "He couldn't flip the shrimp?"

Chuck shrugged and gave her a smile. "He hasn't had any sizzling shrimps since he got back either."

"Oh, that's just wrong," she said, smiling. "You're gonna have to fix that. I mean, _I_ miss sizzling shrimp, I can't see Morgan not eating any for too long. That can't be healthy."

He had straightened up a bit at her admission, and he locked eyes with Sarah. "I think his job just didn't mean as much to him without Anna." Sarah's eyes cut down to her plate. The light discussion was over.

Chuck was feeling so many emotions at the same time; it was confusing. He couldn't wait to finally get some answers, but he also dreaded the conversation. He was pretty certain he wasn't going to like what she was about to tell him. He needed to be strong, though. He needed to keep it together. Sarah didn't need to worry about him as well.

And it was so good to see her, but he wasn't sure what to expect. Their relationship had never been very clear at the best of times. And now…what were they exactly? He knew what _he_ wanted them to be, but there were more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with first.

It had killed him last night to keep his questions to himself. He had been a bundle of nerves for days now, but if there was one thing Sarah's situation had taught him, it was how to handle his emotions better. He didn't have a choice. He needed to be cautious with the government, and hide what he was doing.

Now that he had found her, he also needed to convince Sarah to talk to him, and let him help. One thing he could do was give her a night of respite. Sarah had never been the talkative type, and she could get very stubborn. Exhausted Sarah was worse, and he could see she really needed the rest; her exhaustion worried him.

If Sarah hadn't been on the run, possibly on the verge of disappearing forever, and worried about his safety, he'd probably have been more insistent and questioning than he was, but he didn't want to risk Sarah getting defensive, thereby keeping him out of the loop—or worse. So he had decided to take the time to work on her, and fully use the twenty-four hours he had here.

Sarah put down the fork she'd been playing with. "Time to talk, I guess?"

It wasn't really a question so much as an opening. They'd been enjoying lunch since Chuck had come back from his conference. It had almost felt normal, or as normal as they'd ever been anyway. But they both knew that they'd have to talk eventually, so Chuck took the plunge.

"I guess I'll start with what happened in May?" he said.

"I, uh." Sarah took a deep breath. "I came to Europe to meet with you…but I went to Lisbon first." At the questioning look he gave her, she explained. "I went there to spread Bryce's ashes. Lisbon was our first mission."

"Oh." Chuck hadn't had much time to mourn his ex-college roommate, with everything that had happened, and even if he was sad about it, Bryce hadn't really been a part of his life since Stanford. Sarah, however, had been Bryce's partner for two years. They had dated each other. His death had been harder on her.

Chuck had to admire the symbolism of it. Sarah was turning the page of her old life, before presumably starting a new one—with him. "He'd have liked that," he said.

He saw her swallow. "Anyway," she carried on, "the day before I was supposed to meet with you, I was attacked at my hotel." Chuck felt his eyes widen at the news. "They didn't get to me," she said in reassurance. "I escaped, but…one of the guys there. He was CIA."

"I don't understand. The CIA attacked you? Why?"

"I don't know. I was off grid. They weren't even supposed to know where I was. I don't think it was the Agency that came after me per se, that's not how they proceed. But it means whoever it was, they have people in the government."

"So what did you do?"

"I stayed off grid," Sarah said, and looked down at her glass of wine. "I had to get somewhere safe, before trying to make contact." She paused. "By the time I had, they were already accusing me of treason."

"What for?"

"I don't know."

Chuck took a minute to try and process what that meant. "So you ran," he said, filling in the blanks. "Beckman told me that you were undercover, and couldn't be reached. On a last minute, super-important assignment, or whatever. I only learned about the CIA being after you once I got back to Burbank, and Casey told me."

She shifted her gaze to him. "You couldn't have done anything, Chuck."

"I could have tried." He would have. He was still pissed at Beckman for hiding the truth from him. After years of serving her country, Sarah had been completely abandoned by her employer. He didn't need to add his own anger to it—those kind of feelings could get Sarah killed—so he pushed the sentiment aside.

Chuck tried to imagine what it had been like for Sarah. "Why are you still in the States, though? You could have just vanished. Wouldn't it be safer?"

"I did," she said with a nod. "For a while. But I didn't know what they wanted. They could have been after you."

"So that's why you were on the plane." With all she'd been through, she was still trying to protect him. "I thought you might be some kind of alternate version of Sarah Walker. I mean, brown hair and a pants suit? Totally Farrah Walker, if you ask me."

Sarah gave him an absent look, probably wondering what he was talking about, before ignoring his comment. She shook her head. "No, I tried to contact you before. In August." She stood up from the table, her glass in hand, and sat down on the sofa. She let her head rest on top of it, looking at the ceiling. "They spotted me when I came back to California. I had to leave."

"Who was it?" Chuck asked, putting away their plates on the room service trolley. He had to do something with his wobbly hands.

"I don't know. Some guy," she said faintly. She seemed blasé about being attacked, like she'd gotten used to the idea. It scared him. "He only had a fake ID. I sent his laptop to the FBI, so they could identify him."

Chuck froze. "Wait, when was it exactly?"

"First week of August."

"In Victorville?"

Sarah twisted her neck. "Yeah, you heard of it?"

Chuck felt a knot in his stomach. "Yes, uh, Rafe Gruber," he said, standing up. "He was like the world's most dangerous assassin." His fists clenched.

"Chuck, it's fine. He won't hurt anybody anymore."

"Did he hurt you?" Gruber wasn't the type to mess around. He was a martial arts expert, a sharpshooter, a real mercenary. Chuck remembered something then.

Earlier upon entering the room, Chuck had gotten an eye full of Sarah's bare back while she was finishing putting on her shirt. (It hadn't really helped. That wasn't exactly what he needed to think about at this time. He had already woken up overwhelmed by Sarah's scent all over the bed. And the room for that matter. His head right next to hers. Shoulders against shoulders. Hips against hips. Other than that, they had luckily (or not) kept to themselves—no revisit of Barstow—so he had slipped out of bed, and let her sleep. She needed the rest.) Above her left hip, though, something had caught his eye: a bandage. It probably wasn't from her confrontation with Gruber, but she could have gotten hurt several times during the last six months. He'd have to remember and ask about it.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I, hmm, I tried to arrest him but…" She trailed off, and took a sip of her wine, obviously uncomfortable.

Chuck joined her on the sofa. "You did what you had to do," he said, meaning it. Having read Gruber's file, it probably had been her or him.

Sarah looked at him for a moment before answering. He couldn't really read her expression, all he knew was that she was bothered by something—something other than killing Gruber. "Yeah, I know."

"The CIA got a number of his former employers thanks to the laptop," he added. "I mean, we had nothing on this guy, very few people had even seen his face."

"I could have done without seeing it myself," she said quietly.

Silence set in. Chuck wanted to tell her it was okay, but what did he know about it? He never had to take another person's life before. He shuffled a little closer instinctively. Sarah emptied her glass, and put it down on the coffee table. When she leaned back on the couch, she didn't try to put more distance between them, and their shoulders brushed. "After that, I knew it would be too dangerous to get you involved, so I decided to stay away."

They both settled on watching the TV, even though it wasn't on. "So that's why you wouldn't tell me anything on the plane," he said. That didn't make sense. "Why were you even there?"

"I told you," she said. "I came to make sure you were fine."

"By putting yourself in danger?"

"Chuck, you went on a midair mission with a Ring agent and without backup," she said accusingly. "Two Ring agents, actually."

"That was part of my training," he said defensively.

"What kind of training is that?" she replied with a frown.

It made him smile a little. He couldn't blame her for asking; he had wondered the same thing after all. But he didn't want her to think he took things lightly. And he also wanted her to know that he could take care of himself now. She wasn't his handler anymore. And more importantly, he could help her. "Shaw likes to push things, get his agents to perform, I guess."

"Shaw," Sarah repeated, and ran her fingers through her hair. Chuck was glad that she was blonde again. "I've never heard of him."

"He's a Ring expert," Chuck explained. "He came to me in Prague, when he learned about what had happened with the 2.0. He said what I had in my head could help lots of people."

She shook her head again. "If it doesn't get you killed, first."

"That's why he took over my training. To prepare me," he said. He was a trained agent now. "Then, we set up the Ring task force in Burbank with Casey."

She sighed, somewhat unhappily. "So how is it?"

"What?"

"Your training." She pronounced the word like she had a sour taste in her mouth.

"Oh well, hmm, in Prague there was an entire facility dedicated to turning me into Intersect 2.0," he said, remembering. "I mean, they really went all out. And the Intersect, you should see it Sarah, it's pretty amazing what I can do now. The other day, I zipped line across a power line with my belt!" It was nice to talk about his experience there. He couldn't talk about it with anyone, except Casey. That just wasn't the same. "What? What is it?" he asked, wondering about the look on her face.

"Nothing," she said. "You seem pretty happy about it."

"I guess." Chuck thought about it for a second, and frowned. "I mean, I was." He ran his hands across his thighs. "It's exciting…being a real spy, living a life of adventure, and doing things that really matter, you know," he explained, smiling to himself.

"It's not that simple," she said.

He stopped smiling. "No, but what I have in my head can make a difference." She didn't say anything this time. "It's demanding and I hate that I have to lie to Ellie and Morgan, but you know how it is." Her jaw set, and she was glaring at the TV now.

"You're the one that taught me that being a spy is about choosing something bigger. It's about putting aside your own personal feelings for the greater good. That's what I'm doing." Looking at her intently, he went on. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Please don't say that," she said.

"Why?" It was the truth. Her dedication, her sacrifices, how much she cared about what they did, and the people that depended on it; Chuck had always admired that about her.

"Being a spy, it changes you," she said. She had told him the same thing when he had learned that he was leaving for Prague.

" _If you do this, if you go, you're going to be a spy for the rest of your life. Every city is going to be a new mission, and a new identity, and you're not going to be the same person."_

"The travels, the parties, the excitement… It's not that simple," she said again. "You don't know who you're working for. Nothing's real."

"I know." She craned her neck to meet his gaze in surprise. "It didn't take me long to realize that," he said. "After only three months, Casey not only told me you went rogue, but that Beckman had lied to me about it, repeatedly." He looked away from her. "Hell, it's been almost five months and she's still lying. It's become ridiculous." He paused. "I figured going through with it was the only way I could find you, though."

Another silence fell, and this time she was the one to break it. "It's not just that," she said.

Chuck shifted on the sofa, his side against it and his arm on top of it. He gave her his full attention. She was trying to tell him something, he heard it in her tone. He waited.

"Remember why Bryce got you expelled from Stanford?" she asked, and the memory made him frown. "He thought you had too much heart for this work. That you were too good a person to be a field agent."

"I can be a spy," he said. He could help her.

She chewed her lips. "I know." Oh. Really? "Chuck, I told you before. You can do anything." She paused. "I guess what I'm saying is: I don't want you to."

"But I'm the Intersect. I don't know if I could walk away, knowing I can help people. I'm the only one who has it."

"I know." She looked down for a moment and sighed heavily. Locking her eyes back with his, she added, "Just…don't give up on the things that make you great."

"I won't," he said, with as much sincerity and certainty he could convey.

She gave him a hint of a nod, like she believed him, but wasn't convinced at the same time, and she swallowed. Looking back in the direction of the TV, her thoughts were obviously miles away.

Chuck had found her. Sarah was here. He finally knew what had happened, or what she knew at least. But she didn't want him to be a spy. She had never wanted him to be a spy. She wouldn't want him anywhere near the danger she was in. She was way too used to protecting him for that. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage to persuade her to let him help. "What happens now?"

"I don't know." Sarah fidgeted on the sofa, still gazing at the TV, but Chuck could see that her posture was tense.

Perhaps she was bracing herself for another round of questions. It was clear she wasn't comfortable talking specifics on what had happened, and the attacks she had suffered. Since they still had time, he figured Sarah could use a distraction. She'd been on the run, alone, for so long. Chuck could do that for her. He leaned forward to the table and grabbed the remote.

"How about a movie?"

Her expression lit up instantly, and it simultaneously warmed his heart and made him sad. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, that sounds great."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"What are you watching?" Sarah said. Her eyes were closed.

Chuck looked away at the TV in embarrassment. He hadn't really realized he'd been watching her sleep. "Um… _Terminator_?"

He chanced a look at Sarah from the corner of his eye. She ran a hand across her face to chase away the remainder of her slumber, but she was smiling.

"Right," she said with a hint of amusement. "What happened? What did I miss?"

Chuck looked at the TV; John Connor and Kate Brewster had just arrived at the bunker. "The Terminator saved them so they could lead the resistance. They're just finding out," he gave a nod towards the movie, "that they couldn't stop Judgment Day. It was only about survival."

"Oh," she said, and watched the scene. "Sounds familiar," she added.

They watched the nuclear bombs explode as John Connor explained that their "Destiny was never to stop Judgment Day. It was merely to survive it. Together."

"At least they had each other," Chuck finally said.

They'd been doing a _Terminator_ marathon for the last several hours. They had intended to go see _Terminator: Salvation_ months ago when it came out in May, and Chuck had planned to show Sarah the first three movies in anticipation. They had had it all figured out, but it had never happened. So when Chuck came across _Terminator: Salvation_ on the list, he had insisted they'd have time to watch them all. He loved them (and the actress who played Sarah Connor reminded him of somebody, though he could never place it). He knew it was probably a stupid idea to watch a movie they had planned to see six months ago, but had never been able to. As much as he wanted to, it wouldn't make up for the lost time, and give them the last six months back. Chuck had felt like trying anyway.

The movie marathon had actually done more than anything he could have hoped for. They'd spent time together, almost like normal people—no tension over murder assassination tales, no freak outs about his safety, no questions. Sarah had been relaxing, and she had drifted off to sleep through the third movie.

Chuck launched _T4_ , and checked the surveillance on his laptop. Sarah was looking at him; it was obvious she had caught his meaning, but she didn't react to his words.

"Everything alright?" she asked eventually.

"Yeah, we're good." He sagged back on the sofa. He wasn't really paying attention to the events on the TV. They were having a good time, but now he wanted to know more about what she'd been through the last few months. Even more, he wanted to know what she was going to do next. However, he wasn't sure how to broach the subject again. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he needed to know. "So, uh, Lisbon and Victorville… Does this kind of thing happen often?"

Sarah took a cushion, and held it against her abdomen. "Uh, no."

"What about your hip, then?" She frowned at him, bringing her hand to cover the bandage she had under her shirt. "I saw it, earlier," he said to answer her questioning look. "Does it hurt?"

"It's nothing," she dismissed. "I, uh, I just bumped into something and got a bit of a scratch."

That was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard all day. Come on, Sarah Walker didn't bump into things and get scratches. She was very agile. "That's your story? Really?" he told her, amused by her poor attempt at covering up.

She looked up at him like she was going to protest, but stopped, perhaps at the sight of his grin. She shrugged. "Fine, I had another one of those little encounters a few weeks ago, and got a cut. It's fine, though."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him."

Chuck took her hand. It was cold. They'd been avoiding contact all day. They had been sitting close on the couch, as if it was all they would allow themselves as a tacit rule. He brushed her knuckles and asked, "How many times has that happened?"

"Those three times, that's all. It's my fault, really. First, I wasn't careful enough coming back to California, and then..." She exhaled loudly. "It doesn't matter. It won't happen again."

"It matters to me," Chuck said.

"It won't happen again," Sarah repeated.

Chuck frowned, but didn't press her any further, and released her hand. She was apparently done talking about it for now. Considering how her hold on the cushion had tightened, she didn't like to think about it. That scared him even more. What if next time, she didn't escape? He shut his eyes for a brief moment; that kind of thinking wouldn't do him any good.

He went back to the movie, but he was convinced of what he had to do now.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"I should probably start packing," Sarah said, and placed the bowl of popcorn on Chuck's stomach.

He didn't say anything, and she felt his eyes on her as she moved around the room, although he was pretending to keep his attention on the film. She could sense the wheels turning in his head. He was preparing what he wanted to say to her before she left. Chuck would check out the following day, but they had both agreed that it'd be safest for Sarah to leave that night.

She changed in the bathroom, and prepared the cap and jacket she'd be wearing. She needed to hide her hair, which was back to its natural color. She had wanted to feel like herself during the seminar. She didn't regret it, since Chuck had let slip that, although she looked great in any color, blonde was the one he liked best, how he knew her. Sarah didn't really have anything to put away after that, as she had started preparing to be ready to leave at a moment's notice ever since Lisbon.

"I lost your mom's charm bracelet," she said quietly.

Chuck didn't say anything. He didn't hide his surprise at her statement, but he simply waited for her to elaborate. "In Lisbon. It was in my hotel room, and I, uh." She paused to zip her traveling bag close, and deposited it by the door. "I left it there." Sarah couldn't bring herself to look at him. She had been so stupid. If she had just put it back on right after her shower, she'd still have it. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Chuck said. His voice was a bit louder than usual. "You couldn't have known that..." He looked away. "You escaped, that's what's important," he said, glancing back at her. "You can get another bracelet anytime."

"Not this one."

"It's just a bracelet," he said. Mentioning his mother's jewelry must have reminded him of something for he said, "I've got something else for you, actually." He rummaged through his suitcase for a moment, and came back with a box, which he handed to her.

"What is it?" she asked, before opening it.

"It's the same phone I use when you call me. I modified it for you."

"Chuck…"

"You don't have to call me with it if you don't want to," he said, and wouldn't meet her gaze. He remained fixed on the phone in her hand, as if he was afraid to see her reaction. "But I thought you could use a phone like that."

Before she could think better of it, she said, "Who else am I gonna call?" She inwardly berated herself; she should let him go, not encourage him.

He smiled back, and moistened his lips. "Look, I know what you're gonna say. It's not safe for me. We don't know who 'they' are," he said and made quotation marks with his fingers, "but I don't care about that. I wanna help."

After the last incident, the one that scarred her left flank, Sarah had felt the need to call him. It had been a moment of weakness, but it had helped. His proposition to meet in Seattle had sounded like the perfect getaway. Chuck had caught her at a vulnerable time, but she didn't regret it. It had been great to see him.

Nevertheless, she had come here with the intention of giving Chuck enough information for him to move on. Now that he knew, he wouldn't have to worry, and keep wondering. The plan had been to tell him that, now that she was sure he hadn't been targeted, and his training allowed him to defend himself, she'd disappear somewhere nobody would ever find her. And she'd be fine.

It was a real possibility, but honestly, it didn't appeal to her at all. Her life had been solely revolving around the CIA and Chuck for years. What was she going to do without either of them? She didn't care much about the CIA anymore, but Chuck… And it wasn't just him. She had never made connections with people easily, whether due to circumstances or simply her nature, but she had made friends in Burbank, and didn't want to start a new life, alone, from scratch. Chuck had given her a life in Burbank that she didn't want to give up on.

And she didn't want to stop fighting, either. Whoever was after her, she wanted to know what the hell their problem was. She would find them, and make them regret going after Sarah Walker.

"When you didn't show up at the train station," Chuck went on, since she hadn't responded. "I thought, maybe...maybe you'd changed your mind, you know, about running away together."

"I didn't," she said. Nervousness made the temperature in the room soar all of a sudden, and she pursed her lips.

They could still run, together. She hadn't thought Chuck would want to, now that he was practically a spy, and she knew with the Intersect he'd feel like he had to be one. But after what he had told her earlier regarding his realizations about the spy life, maybe she was wrong. And from what she'd seen, he was still her Chuck.

Could she still save him from the spy life, though? Saving him by bringing him into her mess of a life, where she was being hunted by both unknown criminals that had contacts in the government and the government itself, seemed kind of counter productive to her.

That was why she had been so reluctant to tell him the truth in the first place. She didn't want to aid him in becoming even more of a spy—forcing him to be even more of a spy. Every time she gave him details about her attacks, about who she had fought or killed, about what it was like to be on the run, the people that were after her…it would only inured him more to it. Some things were better left unsaid. He didn't need to know about them. He shouldn't have to know about them.

"I'd still do it," he said, echoing her thoughts, and moved closer. "But, I don't think we should."

Oh. Sarah looked down and fixed the first button of his shirt in front of her. That solved that issue.

"I think we should fight."

What? She immediately looked up. He was serious. She could read the determination in his eyes. If he decided something, it was hard to make him change his mind. He could be stubborn that way.

"You're gonna be an agent soon. When the CIA learns about this—and they will eventually—they won't be happy, Chuck. You could be charged with treason, and lose everything you've been working for. You'd never get a chance to be a real spy," she said.

Chuck just gave her a lopsided smile, as if he couldn't care less. "I know."

"I don't want to stand in your way." As much as she wanted to cheer about what he seemed to be saying, how could she possibly ruin his life like that?

"Well…I do." He seemed so confident. Sarah's throat went dry, and she swallowed at the implication. "Running, it would only make the government think that you're guilty, which is ridiculous, as you did nothing wrong. You shouldn't have to hide from them. Plus, you'd still be in danger, especially since we've yet to figure out who set you up. And I'm the Intersect so, going with you, it wouldn't be very smart." He paused and ran his tongue over his lips again. "I guess, you could go by yourself, uh, disappear…"

This was it. She could lie to him, and hopefully he would go back to his life. Away from her. Where he'd be safe. Or she could tell him the truth.

"If that's what you want," he carried on, "then—"

"No," she heard herself say. "I want to know," she added. "I'm not letting them decide whether I disappear for good or not." I'll run if I want to, once I've kicked their asses, was what she really meant. And maybe, if she survived this, maybe they'd finally have their chance. She didn't want to involve him in her mess, but definitely renouncing Chuck—renouncing them—was another thing entirely.

Her eyes caught the TV, where the credits were rolling. That was her cue. Chuck followed her gaze, and she grabbed his arm so that he'd turn back toward her. "I'm sorry, but I need to go soon."

Chuck nodded, and sighed, looking deflated. "There's the charger and everything, and I entered my number in it," he said, eyeing the phone still in her hand. As Sarah put it in her bag, he dug out a business card from his wallet. She frowned when she saw it. The card was from _The Pineapple Corporation_ in Jacksonville, Florida. It displayed a golden pineapple as a logo. "If you lose the phone, or need to contact me, whatever, the dot on the pineapple's 'i' is a microdot. It will give you instructions on how to contact me safely." Chuck must have taken her silence for dubiousness, because he added, "It's safe, I swear."

She could see that he was serious. He really wanted to do this. "That's, uh, clever," she said lamely.

He gave her a small smile. "Will you call?"

She felt so weak right now. Since the moment Sarah had woken Chuck up last night, he had progressively eroded all of her resolve. It would be completely irresponsible to put him in that much danger. Even if they made it, he would never get out of this unscathed. She was supposed to protect him. She had tried to convince him otherwise, but despite all of her warnings of danger, he still wanted to help her. She was so tired of doing this alone. She had missed him too much.

"I'll call," she said with a nod, and she could see the relief in his expression. "I should go."

After walking to the bed, she slipped into the jacket she had laid there, and put on her hat. She grabbed her bag by the door, and said her goodbyes.

Chuck hadn't moved from his spot at all, and suddenly, before her hand could turn the doorknob, he spoke up, "Sarah, wait!" He came closer, and lifted his hands to either side of her head. Cupping her face, he touched his forehead to hers.

Time seemed to freeze. He was going to make one of his declarations again, the ones he usually did at the fountain. She certainly didn't mind them, but she wasn't sure she could hear one at that moment, and then leave. So, she beat him to it. "I know," she whispered.

To his credit, he didn't say anything back. Instead, he tilted his head, and kissed her. It was brief, chaste, and gentle, but it still sent goose bumps all over Sarah's skin. It was the best feeling she'd experienced in months.

The kiss ended too soon for her taste, but as much as they might have wanted to, neither of them tried to deepen it.

As always, they didn't have the time.


	5. The Trap

_**November 27, 2009** _

Something was buzzing.

Chuck's eyes popped open. The sound took a few seconds to register. When it did, he threw off the covers, and went straight to his desk drawer.

"Hello?" he said into the phone.

"Hey, Chuck."

"Sarah?" Chuck still felt half asleep. Of course it was Sarah—she was the only one who had this number, and it was her voice. He rubbed his forehead. Sleep hadn't been his friend lately.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm sorry to call so late."

"No, no, it's fine," he said in a whisper. He didn't want to wake Morgan. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said, and her voice levelled to match his. "I found a good place to lie low. I should be fine for a few days."

"Okay, uh, good."

Chuck often wondered if she was telling him everything. Sarah didn't avoid his questions during their phone discussions, but she also rarely went into specifics. She had never really been a fan of talking about these things, but he knew that she also didn't want to scare him. Sometimes, when she let something slip and he figured out certain things about what her life was like now, it took all of his willpower not to freak out. Like the fact that she mostly got her sleep during the day, because it was easier to move at night; or that he was pretty sure she was self-medicating to stay alert at times, probably endangering her health in the process; or when she had asked him to alert the authorities about a drug cartel she had encountered last week.

"How was today?" she asked.

Today had been Thanksgiving. Or technically, since it was currently three in the morning, yesterday had been.

"Great," he said, and proceeded to tell her all about his day. Ellie and Devon had been celebrating their first Thanksgiving dinner as a married couple. Morgan, Bologna, and Big Mike had joined them, Casey too. Ellie had gone all out. The meal had been so amazing. They had feared several times that Morgan would end up in a food coma, and it wasn't like they hadn't had experience with the issue. Despite how fun it had been, how nice it had been to spend time with his family, Chuck knew he hadn't hidden his broodiness very well. They couldn't know that it was because for him, someone was missing. But still, Ellie had sent various looks in his direction that clearly meant she was onto him. "I really wish you could have been there." Sarah didn't respond, and he quickly apologized.

He knew that she probably wished she could have been there as well. However, as difficult as it was to remind her that she hadn't been able to be there, Chuck wanted her to know that she was still welcome in their lives. She had something to come back to.

Since the seminar in Seattle, Chuck had started to tell her about his research. He had felt a little guilty about it, as he didn't mean to pry into Sarah's past, but Sarah hadn't said anything. In fact, she had given him more information to go on, even if he knew she didn't like it. There were so many holes in her files, though. As she had put it, "Graham liked his secrets."

A week ago, Chuck had left in Chicago a flash drive with various files on it for her to find. He had been to a gala with Casey, where he was supposed to flash on random criminal individuals all night. Because Sarah couldn't come back to California, nor could they arrange to meet internationally in the short amount of time Chuck had when he was getting a new mission, they hadn't been able to exchange files. It was impossible for Chuck to secure things from Sarah's side. The gala had been their opportunity. Chuck had hidden the flash drive in a vase, and Sarah had retrieved it later. It had sucked to know that they would be in the same place, practically at the same time, and yet wouldn't be able to see other.

"Sarah?"

"Hmm?"

"What if…" There was something he had been thinking about a lot lately, and even more after spending the entire day wondering where she was, what she was doing, or if she even knew it was Thanksgiving considering that all her days must feel the same. "What if we pulled a trap on the guy that's following you?"

"A trap?"

"Yeah, like, capture him, or something," he clarified as he laid back on his bed.

"Capture him?" she echoed sceptically. "What for?"

"To finally get some answers."

"And then what? You try the Intersect interrogation techniques on him, and we dispose of the body in a dump somewhere?"

Sarah had a point. They couldn't just grab the guy, and go good cop/bad cop on him. They didn't have any jurisdiction. Self-defence was one thing, but they couldn't just torture whoever they'd like. He wouldn't be able to do that anyway, let alone "dispose of the body". Eventually, they'd have to arrest whoever was following Sarah, and give him to the authorities. Unfortunately, they couldn't let anybody know that Sarah and he were in contact, and that he was helping her. The government was compromised.

"Fine, then—if not that, then just to give you some space to breathe," he said with a hint of frustration. "Slow them down."

Sarah had been chased by a man for almost two months now. They figured that whoever had hired Gruber, had hired someone new. She didn't know who it was, but he had come close to getting the drop on her in October, and she'd been restless ever since the seminar—constantly on the move; hiding, running, but thankfully not fighting.

Chuck could tell she was wearing thinner every day. They needed to act, rather than react, or she'd lose. He'd lose her. The tricky part was to convince her. She was fine with him looking into things from the safety of his room, behind files and computers, but actually helping her out in the field was something else. Putting the Chicago operation together had required some serious persuasion. She didn't like the idea of putting him in danger, and was always fighting him about it.

Chuck didn't want to pressure her too much on it in fear that she'd changed her mind. What if she decided that it really was too dangerous to involve him after all, and disappeared? Launching a secret operation, like a trap, wasn't his choice to make. He needed Sarah on board a hundred percent. He doubted he would be able to do anything without her consent anyway. He hadn't learned anything about her situation until _she_ had showed up on the plane.

Spending Thanksgiving, not only without her, but also not even knowing if she was okay, seemed to have given him the courage and motivation to try and convince her once again.

"I'm sorry." He heard her sigh on the other end of the line. "It's just that…I thought about it too, but I don't think I can pull off something like this right now."

"I'll do it with you."

"You can't. I can't come back to California, and you can't leave."

"What about somewhere close? Say, Vegas, or somewhere in Mexico. I could do the trip in a day."

"Casey and Shaw would know."

"Shaw's gonna go to D.C. soon. He told us about it. I could pretend to be on an install. We do that all the time when we're not going on missions."

"That's a lot of trouble just to arrest someone." She paused, seemingly thinking about it. "You'd have to get papers, take care of your watch, fly to wherever we'd go," she carried on. "We'd need to find a place to lure him in, and find out what to do with him. And that's if we're lucky enough for him to show up when we intend him to."

"It'll be worth it." He knew it was quite the long shot, but he was tired of going through files that weren't telling him anything. Every time he'd hacked a firewall to gain access to the CIA database, a new one showed up. He had still managed to find lots of information about Sarah's past missions. Not so much about Lisbon, though. Now he knew a lot more than he would have ever cared to know about Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, the couple she used to impersonate with Bryce, and still had nothing on why the CIA was after her, or the potential people who'd want her dead.

Sarah fell silent. He wasn't sure if it was because she was considering it, or trying to find a way to tell him "No."

"I'll bring a DVD," he said, hoping to convey his smile with his tone. "At worst, you'll just have to suffer through another movie with me."

She chuckled lightly, and sighed again, before tentatively saying, "Phoenix."

"Phoenix?"

"Yeah, we may be able to do this in Phoenix."

––––o–––––o––––

 

_**December 1, 2009** _

"Sybil Burke?"

"Yeah, that's me," she answered, nodding to the young delivery guy. He handed her the package, made her sign the receipt, and left, slightly perplexed over the situation.

Sarah had been waiting for him at a table outside a café, wearing a red scarf as an identifying sign. It was cliché, but that was the point. It wouldn't give any indications about who was helping her. What the courier hadn't known was that she had sent herself the package a few days ago, with specific delivery instructions.

She had chosen the café carefully. The place allowed for surveillance, but she wouldn't be vulnerable to a sniper. There were too many people, and the buildings around didn't offer a good angle. Theoretically. Sarah didn't plan on waiting too long and finding out otherwise. So, she hurriedly opened the box, and took out the cell phone inside, making sure in a non-obvious way that the person who was supposed to be watching her would see it.

It wasn't even a real cell; she'd bought it in a toy store. She faked dialing a number, and brought the faux-phone to her ear. The plan was to make it look like she was calling to set up a rendezvous. Once she had, she put the faux-phone, the package, and her scarf away in her purse, before emptying her Coke, and leaving to catch a cab.

Sarah was nervous. She felt more exposed today than she had ever since the first days after the Lisbon incident. She had intentionally left enough hints for her pursuer to find her, all the while trying to make it look like she was making mistakes. And there were no certainties that it would work, or worse, that Chuck would be fine. If everything on his side went well, he would be currently waiting for her at the abandoned warehouse she had selected for what they had come to call "The trap."

The ride lasted an eternity; twenty minutes during which every awful scenario of how things could go wrong filled her mind. Walking through the parking lot after she'd finally arrived, she made a show of looking inconspicuous, while actually checking the perimeter. She passed the only car parked there: hers. She had left it there three days ago when she had set up the place, before starting to leave clues behind her. The license plates had been covered, which meant Chuck was here.

Satisfied that everything seemed in order, she slipped inside through the front door. Sarah checked around the ground floor. The window-panes on top of the walls were grimy, and the building had terrible lighting. That had been part of the attraction. The empty shelves also helped to keep the light out. It was dark inside, even during the middle of the day.

Sarah headed for the stairs on her left. What had been a bathroom and two offices were arrayed along the width of the building and only covered half of the warehouse's first floor. A catwalk jutted out over the rest of the ground floor. She walked to the last room where she had told Chuck to wait for her, holding her Smith and Wesson tightly the entire time. She tucked it back into her waistband as she entered the room and saw that he was alone and fine. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth.

When he turned from the monitors in front of him, Chuck's eyes lit up at the sight of her. "Hey, everything okay?" he said as he stood up. He was clothed all in black. Warmth fluttered through her when she saw his shoes. All-black chucks. What was wrong with her? She was reacting to his footwear now? "I set up the cameras like we said. Everything's in order. Do you think he'll come?"

Wow, he was nervous. Sarah wasn't sure if it was because of their little side mission, or because he didn't know what would be a proper greeting between them. She'd left precipitously the last time they had seen each other. They hadn't exactly had time to label their relationship. And now, he was babbling and hadn't made any attempt to get closer.

She decided to clear the air, and help him relax. She advanced toward him, and he abruptly stopped talking, eyeing her movements. When she came to a reachable distance, she grabbed a handful of his long sleeved t-shirt near his collar, and yanked forward to meet his lips. The kiss was slow and tender. She didn't try to make more of it, since they didn't have time. Her shadower could arrive at any second now; besides Chuck was rooted to the spot, barely reciprocating her gesture. It made her smile against his mouth.

That seemed to spur him into action. He wrapped both of his arms around her back, pulled her closer, and slightly cocked his head to deepen the kiss.

It wasn't as frenzied as it had been two years ago at the docks, or seven months ago in Barstow, but there still was a certain urgency to it. Sarah hoped she was doing as good a job as he was at showing her how much he had missed her. She certainly felt her knees weaken.

When the kiss ended, Sarah leaned against him, releasing his shirt and letting her hand rest on his chest. "Hi, Chuck," she said with a shy smile.

Chuck opened his eyes slowly, looking a little stunned, and licked his lips, as if pondering whether that really happened or not. After a few seconds, apparently satisfied that she was still here, he finally grinned back. "Hi," he said, and tightened his arms to envelop her in a hug.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"He's coming through the back entrance."

"Copy that," Sarah told Chuck through the comm.

Chuck was watching the monitors from the office where they had installed the surveillance equipment. In the first office, they had set up sounds and lights that hinted at the meeting Sarah was supposed to be having taking place there. That meant, whether Sarah's hunter had opted for the front or the back door, he'd have to take the stairs if he wanted to go there. Even if he'd chosen to remain cautious—and since he had waited almost an hour and a half before coming in, he probably was—to be sure to catch Sarah, he would have to come close. Sarah was waiting for him behind the shelves opposite the staircase.

The man started to move slowly in that direction, gun in hand. He was thin and not very tall, although Chuck couldn't see much details of his figure through the cameras. When he appeared near Sarah, Chuck saw her shoot. Unfortunately, the darts didn't seem to penetrate his clothes or mask. The man turned suddenly towards Sarah who had anticipated the move. To Chuck's relief, she managed to disarm him, and they engaged in hand-to-hand combat.

It would have been like watching a great action movie, all perfect ninja moves, punches, kicks, and blocks. Morgan would have loved it. If it hadn't been Sarah fighting, Chuck might have even enjoyed it too. But it _was_ Sarah.

The office suddenly seemed to have been hit by a heat wave, as tension crept upon him. Sarah had been clear: the man couldn't see Chuck. If he saw him, he could tell somebody, anybody, and that was a risk she didn't want to take. Chuck couldn't just watch and do nothing, though. He struggled with indecision until he saw Sarah hit the floor violently. He sprang into action, put on night goggles, a black hood, and grabbed his tranq gun. The Intersect would allow him to shoot from a distance.

Chuck exited the office, squatting against the walls to remain unseen. He could hear the commotion, but couldn't see them yet. When he passed the bathroom, he leaned on the banister and aimed his tranq gun at the man on the floor below him.

He never got to shoot. Sarah was giving the man a last cross against the jaw, knocking him to the ground, when Chuck's flash ended. Her head shot up abruptly in his direction. He winced.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snapped. "I told you to stay in the office."

Chuck stood up, took off his goggles and black hood, and put away his tranq gun. She muttered something while he headed downstairs, but he couldn't make it out. "I wanted to be able to tranq him, just in case," he said.

He knew the expression on her face well. He had seen it numerous times, when she was pissed that he hadn't listened. Yet, between heavy breaths, all she said was, "Her."

"What?"

"It's a woman."

Chuck looked at the body as he approached. Oh. Yeah. That explained why the guy had seemed a little short and slim. Sarah lowered herself, and took off her attacker's mask. She froze.

"What the…"

"Amy?" Chuck said in disbelief.

Sarah craned her neck to look at him. "You know her?"

Chuck frowned. Hadn't he told her about that? It was on the files he gave her in Chicago. "I figured out she was the CAT Squad mole back in September. She was working with Augusto Gaez all along. I got her arrested. How the hell is she here? She's supposed to be in custody."

"Well," Sarah said, starting to search Amy's body, "she's not." She pulled something out of Amy's jacket pocket. Chuck felt blood leaving his face.

"That's a—that's a Ring phone," he stammered.

Sarah didn't say anything. She eyed the device, put it in her own pocket, and then rose to her feet. "Help me get her upstairs, we need to hurry," she said, her voice not conveying any of her thoughts.

Chuck didn't move. What the frak? The Ring was after Sarah? And why wasn't she freaking out about this? When Sarah gave him an impatient look, he grabbed Amy's shoulders, and they carried her to the first office. They cuffed her to a chair in the middle of the room, and took everything out, before cleaning up the place. Cameras, monitors, earpieces, prints… Everything.

"What are you gonna do with all this?" Chuck asked, looking around.

"The FBI will get the equipment when they come to retrieve Amy," Sarah said, sitting down on one of the chairs. He narrowed his eyes at her. There was something she wasn't saying. "It's theirs anyway. I stole it from them."

"W-what?"

"Bryce and I worked a case with the bureau here in Phoenix, a few years ago. They haven't changed their security much…"

"Sarah!"

"I only borrowed it," she said with a shrug, not at all apologetic.

"What if they had caught you?"

"It's the FBI," she dismissed, and took the Ring phone out of her pocket. "Now, I'm not sure what to do with this."

He swallowed, and sat down heavily on the chair next to hers. To some extent, her calm over their discovery was reassuring. But Sarah had a way of keeping up appearances for his sake, he knew. "I could try to dissemble it. Our analysts have studied them."

"It's too dangerous."

"We can't pass on the opportunity. That's why we did this, isn't it?"

Sarah looked at the object for a long moment, undecided. "Okay, but don't keep it at home." She extended it to him, but waited for his nod to let go. "You need to get back," she went on, glancing at her watch.

She was right. He needed to fly back to L.A., get rid of the fake ID he'd used and his plane tickets, and retrieve his watch on his way back to the Buy More. He had left it in a residential area, where his fake install was. He had left the store since morning, and couldn't risk being gone much longer.

Chuck reached out, and brushed his fingers against Sarah's jaw, where he could see the beginning of a bruise. "Are you okay?" he asked. Since Amy had arrived, they hadn't stopped moving. They were on a schedule, and if he didn't know any better, Sarah hadn't wanted to take any minutes to breathe or talk.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, lingering against his touch.

"What are you gonna do with her?" he asked.

"What we planned. Nothing's changed."

––––o–––––o––––

 

She slapped the woman harder than strictly necessary.

Sarah had tried to keep it together in front of Chuck. Truth was, he'd probably have been the one reassuring her if she had freaked out, but he needed to get back. If she had looked worried in front of him, he wouldn't have left, not that she would have wanted him to anyway. So, she had waited for him to leave for the airport, and took a few minutes to compose herself, before going to see Amy.

Her ex-partner regained consciousness slowly, and started struggling against her restraints, until she saw Sarah in front of her.

"Hey, Amy. Long time no see." Sarah didn't get a response, but she saw the unmistakable flicker run through Amy's face: fear. "So, feeding information to Gaez wasn't enough for you? Or was he Ring too?"

Amy let out a snort. "You're gonna give me moral lessons, now? Really?"

That wasn't the reaction Sarah had expected. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know what you did, you know. They told me."

Amy talked with a knowing smile. Only, Sarah wished she knew what she had done, too. She still had no idea what she was accused of. Not letting anything about that escape, she played along. "Oh, so you're actually one of the good guys?"

"There aren't any good guys anymore. The government used us just like the bad guys would: acting like the world's biggest dope, wearing stupid sexed-up costumes to fight world crime. We paid enough, and deserved better. But I guess you've figured that out yourself."

Sarah kind of had, but it was for another reason than what Amy seemed to be hinting at. "So you try to kill your ex-partners? We were friends. What did I ever do to you?"

"Like you care. We haven't seen each other in years." She smiled again. "Oh, how's the hip, by the way?"

Sarah tried and ignored that last part. If everyone Sarah hadn't kept in her life tried to kill her, the list would be long. "What happened? I thought you'd gotten arrested in September."

"Come on now, you know the instant I talk, I'm as good as dead."

A slap rang out through the warehouse. Amy had been her partner for years. She'd played the team, let Sarah and Zondra accuse each other of being traitors, and then, turned Ring and tried to kill her? What the hell?

The perky blonde ran her tongue over the corner of her mouth, where she had started bleeding. "Pretty much like you actually. How long do you think you'll last?" she asked Sarah.

Another try at getting info out of her would be useless; Amy wouldn't buy her bluff. She'd have to really torture her, which would take longer than she had time for, and flag her even more with the CIA.

"Longer than you, it looks like. I'll let the government deal with you. Try to improve your speech about this 'No more good guys' thing, if you want them to decide against a lifetime sentence."

Amy opened her mouth, either to protest, or try something, beg maybe, but Sarah just unceremoniously pressed her twilight-flashlight against her neck. She wasn't interested in hearing more nonsense. Not in the mood of bargaining with someone that made her want to throw up.

Sarah left the room and prepared to leave. She checked her cell. Chuck had texted her that he got on his plane fine. He was on his way home and would be safe, she told herself. She didn't know where _she_ would go yet. Probably Nevada. They would assume she'd go to Mexico first, so it wasn't an option, and she didn't want to get too far from California just yet.

She'd call Michael Fulton on the way. Mike had gone to Harvard with her. They'd followed each other at times during their training. They weren't exactly friends, but they used to know each other. He was a good guy, and had transferred from the CIA to the FBI four years ago, in order to be with his brother in Phoenix, after his sister-in-law had died in a tragic accident. She had anonymously sent him Gruber's laptop back in August, and it seemed he had followed through. Hopefully, he'd do it again, and get Amy where she belonged: in prison.

As she got into her car, Sarah was left with her thoughts. These moments weren't her favorite. While she was planning, like she'd been doing for almost a week for this operation, her mind was occupied. Work had always been a way to keep from thinking too much when things got difficult. But now, she had nothing to do, and she could finally think about what she and Chuck had found out.

The Ring was after her.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Chuck put the Ring phone in his desk drawer.

Back at Castle, he had looked at the CIA analysts' reports to figure out how to turn it off and make sure it couldn't be traced. Sarah had told him not to bring it home, but he didn't have time to find a hiding place tonight. He was beat, and just wanted to eat, shower, and sleep.

Before that, though, he texted Sarah again to tell her he was home. She was "back on the road", per her words. He sighed, thinking that she probably just wanted to eat, shower, and sleep as well. It wasn't in the cards for her, though.

The freaking Ring was after her. The Ring that Fulcrum had only been a small part of. The Ring that had killed Shaw's wife, and sent the CIA agent on an avenging path, determined only to become a Ring expert and bring them down. The Ring that Chuck had been fighting with Shaw and Casey ever since he came back to Burbank.

They had tried to kill Sarah, probably framed her, and hired professional assassins, including one of her ex-partners! Why? Why would they go after Sarah like this? It seemed rather extreme, especially since they didn't even seem to want anything from her. Sarah hadn't beaten around the bush on this one. They wanted her dead. Period. Never mind why, it was the how that interested Chuck most. How were they going to prevent the Ring from killing Sarah?

A noise outside distracted Chuck from his thoughts. Curious, he looked through his window. No offense to Casey, but he usually didn't get late night visits from friends, and the sound had seemed to come from his apartment. Indeed, a man was shaking Casey's hand.

The flash hit Chuck.

Holy crap.

His heart stopped beating for a second. Then it started again, catching up and racing.

Chuck couldn't believe what he flashed on. That couldn't be right. Why would Casey have a Ring agent at his apartment?

He started to pace. What should he do? Should he investigate? Talk to Casey? Tell Shaw and Beckman?

Why would Casey be talking with a Ring agent, of all things? The Ring was trying to kill Sarah.

Chuck sat down at his desk, and stared at his computer screen. He hurriedly entered his codes, but stopped himself before checking out Casey's file and his connection to the Ring agent. Whatever Casey was doing, he could be monitoring Chuck. Oh God. Would he find out about him and Sarah? Had he already?

Turning back to the window, and after almost pulling his hair out, Chuck decided to do the only thing that had made sense to him lately: call Sarah. He didn't want to bother her, but this was too important. He needed to know what she thought was best.

She didn't pick up.

He tried again several times with no luck.

"Sarah, it's me," he said eventually after the beep. "I'm freaking out. I just flashed on a guy outside of Casey's apartment. His old commanding officer named James Keller. High up in special ops. He's the guy who turned Casey's former sensei Ty Bennett. Yeah, because he's a member of the Ring!"

He stopped to breathe—in and out. Words had been tumbling out of Chuck's mouth so fast, Sarah would think he was losing it. He wasn't. He'd hold it together. He couldn't tear away his eyes from Casey's apartment, though.

"Do you think…" Chuck wasn't sure he wanted to finish his sentence.

Why was this happening? How could this be happening? Why wasn't Sarah picking up? What should Chuck do?

"Do you think it's possible that Casey's working with the Ring?"


	6. The Component

_**December 2, 2009** _

"That's the door to Level Two," Casey said, pointing with his finger.

"A hallway," Chuck observed. "Well, seems easy enough."

"Ah." Casey extended his arm to block his way. He showed him a coin, before throwing it across the corridor.

_Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!_

Chuck wasn't sure what it was exactly that gushed out of both walls, but it definitely seemed like it would be painful to be on the receiving end of it. "Oh," he winced.

"Here's where you flash."

"Okay." Rolling his shoulders a bit to relax his body, he focused on the hallway. The acrobatics flash came to him easily, and he sprang into action. He dashed forward and tumbled through the passage, landing perfectly on his two feet. "Mission accomplished," he said, and pushed on the entrance panel to open the door.

"Pace yourself. We've still got fourteen more levels," Casey reminded him.

Indeed, Casey and Chuck were currently on a Trace Cell mission. That's what Beckman had called it. In other words, they were spy-proofing a subterranean vault that held some of the CIA's most valuable assets at their Los Angeles facility. They needed to break through fifteen levels of security to get to the vault.

With Shaw in D.C.—between Shaw's off grid covert missions and his meetings in D.C., it was hard to keep track, so Chuck had no idea what Shaw was doing—the tension was palpable between the two partners. Well, it was palpable on Chuck's side, anyway. He had been on edge all day. Sarah had told him via text messages to stay put until they could talk about Casey's old commanding officer, and that there wasn't any reason to believe that Casey would suddenly do anything against him. Still, while Chuck was ultra-observant of his teammate, he wasn't acting any differently.

Using, in addition to acrobatics, athletics—the triple jump had been handy—and various parkour techniques—the double tic-tacs he'd done on Level Twelve had been awesome!—they went through the different levels, some of them really nasty. The one with lasers had been inspired. He'd have to remember to congratulate the designer in his report.

"Ugh. That was manageable," Casey said, once they got to the last level. "Now, Bartowski, watch the door."

"Uh, shouldn't we stick together?"

"No. Always gotta have somebody watch your back." Before Chuck could protest, Casey had already disappeared inside. He kept watch as instructed, even though he didn't think anybody was coming. They had been pretty good during the exercise.

A few minutes afterwards, Casey came back. "Here," he said, flattening a piece of paper against Chuck's chest, with a little more force than necessary. Chuck looked down at it while his partner was already leaving.

It read: "From the desk of Gen. Diane Beckman, USAF. Job well done."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Unfortunately," Beckman said, while taking off her glasses, "your mission at the CIA facility was too late. The vault had already been compromised, and a secret component was stolen."

"A secret component, General?" Chuck asked as he shot glances at an impassive Casey across the conference table.

"The information is above both of your pay grades, Chuck," Beckman answered sharply. "It's a highly sensitive item, and we need to get it back. We think this might have been an inside job; only a handful of our people knew it was being kept in box 102311. Did you notice anything unusual?"

Since he hadn't stepped inside the room, Chuck turned to Casey.

"No, everything appeared in order," his partner answered.

"Very well. I'll keep you updated as soon as our analysts find out more. Stay on alert tonight." And as usual, she abruptly disconnected the feed.

Chuck turned his gaze to Casey and asked with curiosity, "What do you think this super-secret component is?"

"You heard the General," Casey said. He stood up, and started walking into the armory. "It isn't for us to know."

The timing was really suspicious. Just the day after Chuck had seen a Ring operative talking with Casey, something went missing from the CIA facility they'd been assigned to check on. It was a hell of a coincidence. Chuck tried not to let his mind wonder excessively on the subject as long as he couldn't talk to Sarah, but that conversation needed to happen soon.

He didn't want to believe it. Casey was his partner, his friend. Before the flash, he would never have believed any accusations against Casey. He was the spy he trusted the most beside Sarah. One of the most loyal people he knew. Casey betraying his country seemed completely ludicrous. However, yesterday he and Sarah had trapped one of her ex-partners. Not only was Amy a traitor, but she'd been trying to kill Sarah for several months. What kind of person did that? Was there anybody he could really trust?

Also, not helping matters was that he hadn't had time to verify if the FBI had arrested Amy. Sarah said that Mike Fulton was a good guy, and there was no reason to think otherwise. But who exactly was he anyway, for Sarah to trust him like that? And she had barely given Chuck any details about what the ex-CAT Squad member had told her. Sometimes dating—or whatever it was they were doing—a woman that embodied the secretive part in secret agent was challenging, and frustrating. It was even more difficult when she was off the grid hiding from both the government and a major criminal spy organization.

Chuck decided to head home. It was already late, Casey was still at Castle so he couldn't check on the FBI, and Sarah might call.

––––o–––––o––––

 

She didn't need to call. Sarah was already waiting for him.

She made Chuck jump as he closed his bedroom door. "Sarah?" he said, keeping his voice low.

"Hi, Chuck," she answered, from his desk chair by the window.

One day, he hoped that finding Sarah waiting for him in his bedroom would be a source of something other than alarm or worry. Today wasn't that day. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk about Casey."

"Why didn't you call?" Chuck removed his messenger bag and dropped it at the foot of his desk. "I shouldn't have left you that message," he said, more to himself than her. "What if they find you?"

"Chuck, relax," she said. "It's gonna be fine."

"But I thought you couldn't come back to California."

"I won't stay long, don't worry." Chuck couldn't help but frown a little. That wasn't exactly what he meant. He was always glad to see her. "You seemed a little stressed out about this Casey thing—"

"I'm sorry," he cut her off, and he sat down abruptly at the edge of his bed, facing her. "I'm fine, you don't need to worry."

"I know," Sarah said. "That's not what I meant. It's just…" She rolled the chair to him, and put her hands on his knees. He could feel the cold through the fabric of his slacks. "It's Casey."

Casey had been Sarah's partner too. He should have known she'd come to clear things up. He reached out, and joined their hands between them, finally calming down. Sarah was here.

The parting kiss he had given her the day before at the warehouse wasn't that far away, and yet it already seemed like ages ago. Chuck took a minute to look at her, really look at her. Although she seemed a little embarrassed by his scrutiny, Sarah let him watch her in silence. He was amazed she could still look this great when she was obviously exhausted. Small bags had started appearing under her eyes. Her complexion was really pale. She wasn't wearing any make-up, and he could see the bruise on her jaw she had developed the day before. Her loose hair was stuck under the collar of her jacket. She was wearing a zipped black jacket and a simple pair of jeans. She was beautiful.

"It's good to see you." He pulled on her hands to make the chair roll and swivel a little bit. He moved in for a hug, and squeezed his arms around her. Her scent had always been intoxicating, and even though it was mixed with the cold, this time wasn't any different. He felt his body relax at her contact.

After a little while, she broke the silence, and asked if anything else had happened. Chuck explained the Trace Cell mission the team had gotten earlier—probably with more details than necessary about the flashes he'd used, but Sarah didn't seem to mind—and Beckman's following debriefing.

"It's a hell of a coincidence," she said when he finished. "If Casey's up to something with this, we need to find out."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Two years. Two years of missions, training, I'm his friend. How could all of that have been a lie?"

Chuck and Sarah had decided to keep watch on Casey. He was still in Castle, so they were in Sarah's car—a black Chevrolet Impala. Chuck didn't see what was wrong with it, but considering the care, or lack thereof, Sarah had for the car, it seemed that she didn't like it much. They were parked at a reasonable distance, where the parking lot cameras couldn't record them.

If it hadn't been for the fact that they were waiting for their (ex)co-worker to reveal whether he was a traitor or not, Chuck would have considered the evening a great one. He had surprised Sarah with sizzling shrimp for dinner, and had played some music from his iPhone; they had had something akin to a stakeout-date. But they _were_ spying on their (ex)co-worker, and Chuck still couldn't believe it.

"Sometime people change," Sarah told him. "You move forward as a spy, and the line between right and wrong becomes more and more gray. You don't know what to believe in, or who to believe in."

"What about you?"

Sarah fixated on Casey's Crown Vic through the windshield, and she seemed to be thinking about her answer for a second. "I guess it depends who you ask."

"What do you mean?" Chuck spun his shoulder towards her a little bit.

"Amy," she said and glanced at him. "I don't know, she said she knew what I did."

Chuck turned completely in his seat this time. "Did she tell you?"

"No, but," Sarah paused and bit her bottom lip, "given the insinuations she made, it sounded pretty bad. The CIA doesn't think I'm much better than her, if not worse." She looked away, focusing back on the Crown Vic.

That was to be expected. They had all but put a burn notice on her, after all. Comparing herself to Amy was a bit excessive, though. "You're nothing like her," he said firmly.

Sarah met his eyes, probably surprised at his vehemence. He held her gaze for a few long seconds; there wasn't any way he'd let her doubt about this. She was rogue because she didn't have a choice.

Eventually, she swallowed, and said, "Well, Casey isn't either." She paused. "Even if we thought it could be true, we should at least give him the benefit of the doubt before throwing him to the wolves, unlike what they did to me," she said. "But we both know that he must have a good explanation for Keller."

God, she was amazing. It was a little disconcerting that even in her situation she was still the one reminding him of his trust in people. It was fitting, though. If there was anyone he could believe in, it was her. A swell of affection came over him then, and before he realized what he was doing, Chuck blurted out three little words.

"I love you."

Sarah's eyes bulged, and she stiffened in the driver seat. Also, someone seemed to have removed all the oxygen from the car. They both had ceased to breathe. His statement had taken them by surprise, and they engaged in another one of their awkward staring contests. Her eyes seemed to shine more than usual in the darkness of the compartment, Chuck thought.

It was true, though. Of course, he loved her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Wow, I'm not sure I could have chosen a worse moment than this. Forget that I said anything." Chuck thought about it for a second. "Actually, no, don't forget about it, because I meant it, just…" He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, searching his words. "Let's ignore it," he added, feeling completely lame. "For both our sakes." Sarah was still watching him intently, but hadn't reacted at all. He shook his head, perhaps hoping he would wake up. "God, I'm sor—"

Chuck was cut off mid-word when Sarah finally moved. Her hands came up to rest on both sides of his neck, thumbs brushing against his jaw. It made him shiver. She closed the distance, and just like when she had greeted him in Phoenix, it took Chuck a moment to respond. There was just something brain-melting about Sarah Walker unexpectedly kissing him.

A slow tingle of excitement ran through his entire body when he saw Sarah, her eyes still shut, moistening her lips and holding onto him as they parted. He squeezed her hips faintly, and gave her another peck, before turning his eyes back to check on the Crown Vic.

For once, his timing had been perfect. His partner was just sliding into his car.

"Casey's leaving," Chuck declared.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Casey hadn't been going home. They had rapidly found that out.

He had driven a long time for a simple night outing, Sarah's grip on the steering wheel had grown tighter, and Chuck had felt himself tense a little bit more with every passing minute. They had almost lost him a couple of times during their tail, but eventually ended up in the woods and next to what seemed to be a cabin.

"I think I prefer old warehouses in creepy industrial areas to the woods," Chuck said, and shifted his shoulders against his clothes to get more comfortable. He and Sarah were currently crouched down in the bushes, behind the cabin. It was a little chilly in the middle of the night, and humid, and silent, yet not completely without sound. It all reminded him that there was a reason he preferred video games to camping.

"It shouldn't be long now," Sarah replied.

Indeed, the guard who was patrolling around the place appeared at the corner. Sarah looked at Chuck, and waited for his nod to shoot him with a tranquilizing dart. Chuck immediately rose to his feet and caught the guard in time to break his fall, avoiding alarming the other guards. They grabbed his weapons, but didn't hide him. No time.

"We should synchronize our watches," Chuck said. Sarah tried to hide her brief smile, but failed miserably. "What?"

"Nothing."

"I like saying that," he said with a shrug, but he was smiling.

"I know." Sarah looked down at her watch. "Just activate the car in two minutes starting now."

Casey had entered the cabin a few minutes previously, so they had sprung into action quickly.

Chuck nodded to Sarah, and proceeded to get into position. They had counted five guards: two down the road, two at the door, and one on patrol. Now that the latter was out, the plan was for Chuck to take out the two guards down the road on the right, while Sarah went left to take care of the other two.

But first, they needed a diversion. That was Chuck's job. He squatted down; his back flattened against the wall, and dug out a rectangular remote from his backpack. It was the same remote that was in the glove box of his Herder. After he had come back to Burbank, Chuck had put together an emergency stash; equipment he kept in his room with him. The remote was one of them, along with his tranqs, and other various items. The beauty of it was that, with the right parameters, the remote could be used for his car _and_ both Casey's and Shaw's.

It wasn't quite KITT yet, and unlike the Herder, he couldn't put it into gear and drive it. The CIA nerds hadn't worked on that yet, but the gadgets inside were fair game. Chuck pressed on several buttons, until he saw the Crown Vic come to life. Or rather, its left headlight. The guards reacted at the sound, searching for its source, but there was nothing they could do. The rocket launched from the car. The whooshing sound boomed out until the missile crashed into the SUV parked a little ahead in the yard. The explosion overturned it onto its right side, and it splashed loudly on the ground.

Chuck let the remote fall to his feet, next to his bag, and grabbed his tranq gun. He flattened instinctively even more against the wall and waited. As soon as the guards at the door would come into her range of vision, Sarah would start to take them out, and Chuck would move in from his side. What was taking her so long? Did it not work? Maybe the guards hadn't moved like they'd hoped.

Gun shots sounded in the distance. Putting aside his worry about Sarah, Chuck stood up and flashed. Despite the movements, it didn't take him long to take out his assigned guards, who had carefully gathered around the Crown Vic to inspect it.

Chuck crept around the corner getting ready to join Sarah, only to be abruptly stopped by a sharp pain in his chest. It hurt. His mind went blank for a second. The air left his lungs. Time slowed down. Chuck looked down at the bullet hole in his jacket.

He barely had time to wonder about where the sixth man came from, before a second shot hit him—harder. This time, Chuck fell backwards and crashed to the ground. He heard himself groan at the impact, and pain stabbed his entire body. The sixth man approached, and even as his vision blurred, Chuck saw the barrel of the handgun lifting to aim at his head, and end him.

It wasn't a gun shot that he heard next, however, and the whooshy dart wasn't meant for him either. Neither were the two others that followed it. Fighting to breathe and keep his eyes open, Chuck saw the man collapsed at his feet. He heard Sarah shout his name, and she rushed to him, lowering herself down to the ground beside him.

As she zipped opened his jacket, he finally felt air becoming available again, making him cough roughly. "I'm okay," he managed to tell her with a strained voice. "That vest was a good idea after all." She had insisted that he'd wear one. He felt very grateful for it at the moment—for her.

Sarah's hands came to his face, and she bent down to brush her lips against his forehead. "Yes, it was," she uttered. She kept close for a moment. He took one of her hands to reassure her, or maybe to reassure himself. Frankly, he wasn't sure who needed it more right now. The prickle emanating from his front was still strong, but Chuck's breathing eased.

"We need to get to Casey," Sarah said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, I'm good."

Sarah helped him up, and they walked to the door, weapons ready. When they reached the entrance, the door swung open, revealing Casey and a gun.

"Walker?" he grunted more than asked. Judging by his current expression, he was pissed and very unhappy to see them. That was saying something, because Casey's expressions weren't pleasant by default. "What the hell are you two doing?"

Chuck put down his weapon and glanced inside the cabin. James Keller was lying unconscious on the floor. Likely dead, Chuck corrected.

"Uh." He exchanged a brief look with Sarah. "We should ask you. What are you doing with the Ring?"

"That's none of your business," he said flatly. "What are you doing with a fugitive?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Casey," Chuck heard himself say in an irritated voice. It always raised his hackles when Casey would doubt Sarah. Even more so since she hadn't questioned him, and they had much more information on his situation. He had clearly been in contact with the Ring. "We're here to help. What's going on?"

Casey squinted slightly at him. He must have taken in Chuck's appearance for the first time—a bit dishevelled, jacket opened, bulletproof vest with two apparent impacts—because he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chuck replied, a hand lifting up to touch his chest. It hurt like hell. "Why are you working for Keller? What's this component you stole?"

"I don't have time for this," Casey said. He started moving, gun still pointed at Sarah. She tracked his movement with her own weapon as well.

"You're not going anywhere," she said.

Casey's left hand fished a little box out of his pocket. "If that's what you're after, take it," he said, and threw it to Chuck. "I need to go." Casey didn't move further, though. Instead, he watched Sarah closely. It reminded Chuck of that time the other man had taken him to Silver Lake. The same expression was plastered on his face.

"Go where?" Sarah asked. "What do they have on you?"

It took another few seconds for Casey to respond, but he eventually relented and put down his weapon. "Before I became John Casey and was recruited for NSA Black Ops by Keller," he said, and glanced at the cabin, "I…I had a fiancée." Chuck felt his eyes pop open at the news. "Twenty years ago she was the girl I was going to marry. Love of my life. But to be a spy and protect our country I had to give up that life. Now, she thinks I'm dead. And if I didn't turn over the component to the Ring, Keller was gonna kill her. And now she's going to die because of a decision I made."

That was…unexpected. Sarah seemed as surprised as Chuck was. They'd have time to think about it later, though. "Okay, uh, where is she now?" Chuck asked.

"Home. That's where I'm going."

"Let's go then," Chuck said.

"You should have reported this, already," Casey told him. "You could be charged with treason, hell, you didn't know any of this until a minute ago."

Chuck looked at Sarah again, and remembered her words earlier during their stakeout. "I don't care who you were. I know who you are. And you're not in this alone."

"We're not gonna let anything happen to her," Sarah said. She looked around then, in hesitation. "I should clean up here. You go with Casey," she told Chuck.

"Maybe you should go," he replied. He hated himself a little for it, but he couldn't help the fear that coursed through him. Would she still be there once they'd saved Casey's ex-fiancée?

"Walker's right. Someone needs to stay," Casey said. "And, she shouldn't even be here," he added, turning to her. She rolled her eyes at him. "Let's go, Bartowski." He jogged to his car.

Chuck turned to Sarah with what were probably questioning eyes. "I'll join you when I'm done here. I can follow you with your cell," she said. Chuck had installed a tracking app on both their secure phones. When on, they could locate each other if need be.

"Okay," he said, somewhat reluctantly.

Sarah stepped forward, and brought her free hand to his vest. "Be careful."

"I will," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek, before jogging to retrieve his backpack, and jumping into the Crown Vic.

As he and Casey pulled onto the road, Chuck turned around in the passenger seat to look at Sarah one last time, but she had already disappeared into the darkness.


	7. The Safe House

_**December 3, 2009** _

Sarah felt herself awaking.

Noise coming from the foyer startled her awake, and she momentarily chastised herself for letting her guard down. As she was just straightening herself up on the sofa, the door opened.

"It's us," Chuck said immediately, before seeing her. "Oh, hey!" She saw him let out a sigh of relief; relief of what, Sarah wasn't sure. He had appeared to be a bit on tenterhooks since she had arrived in Burbank. She had assumed it was about Casey, but he was still tense, even though the rescue mission had gone well.

"Hey," she said back, her voice feeble with sleep.

"Did we wake you?"

"No," she lied, without fooling any of them. In spite of her fatigue, Sarah had wanted a chance to talk with Chuck, before getting some rest. Maybe he'd tell her what was worrying him. That's why she had settled on the couch, after showering and getting changed. "How did it go with Beckman?"

Chuck and Casey had rescued Casey's ex-fiancée—Kathleen—without too much trouble. Keller hadn't had time to give his men the go-order, and they hadn't even woken up Kathleen yet, when Casey and Chuck had gotten to her house. That certainly helped with the cover. It had officially been declared a simple housebreaking attempt.

They had called Sarah, who had been on her way to meet them, after finishing with her clean up at the cabin—tying up all the Ring agents there, and making sure they couldn't escape before the CIA clean up team arrived. After that, Casey had decided to bring them downtown, to a secret safe house only he knew about. Sarah had been waiting there, while Chuck and Casey went to debrief Beckman on the events of the night.

"She seemed to buy our story," Chuck said, and placed his full messenger bag on the table. He removed his perforated jacket slowly, and grimaced as he did so; he probably had some serious bruising from the two gunshots. She had wanted to check on it earlier, but he'd told her he'd do it at Castle. He put the jacket on the back of a chair, which he then pulled out and turned toward the couch, before sitting down near her.

Casey, who was still standing next to the door said, "I'll come back with food in the morning." He paused, and his expression changed. Sarah didn't know why he looked suddenly uncomfortable. "You need anything else?" he asked her.

Oh, that was why. "No, uh, I'm good. Thanks."

Casey didn't dwell. "Want me to tell the moron you're not coming home?" he asked Chuck.

"What will you tell him?" Chuck replied, frowning.

Casey thought briefly about it. "I could tell him you've got a hot date," he said, almost smiling.

"With whom?" Chuck deadpanned.

"With that Stephanie chick from the other day."

"Pfff—W-what?" Chuck glanced at Sarah. "That's ridiculous! Besides, Ellie would find out I lied."

Casey shrugged innocently, but Sarah knew he was enjoying this. He always was.

"It's late, Morgan's probably sleeping." Casey waited as Chuck was obviously thinking about it. "Just tell him I got a call on the Nerd Herd afterhours number if he's still up," he added.

"Hmm, maybe you should go," Sarah said. Chuck gave her a questioning look in response. "If that's going to be a problem with Morgan and Ellie," she clarified.

Chuck apparently decided to stay with her, since all he did was turn to Casey once more. "Goodnight, Casey," he said.

Casey grunted his usual disgust over their relationship, but left quickly without question.

Chuck waited for the door to close to shift back toward her. "I think he's still in shock," he said. "Or as much as Casey can be in shock? His own version of being in shock, I guess."

Back at Kathleen's house, they had made an incredible discovery. Kathleen had a daughter named Alex. Chuck had rapidly done the math: she was Casey's too.

"She's named after him. He told Beckman his real name was Alex Coburn," Chuck carried on. "That's crazy." He shook his head, like he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "I don't think he'll tell her, though."

"Maybe it's for the best."

"Don't you think she should know?"

"Keller knew about Casey's old identity because he recruited him, but it's still safer for Kathleen and Alex not to know who he really is."

"Maybe…"

The conversation lapsed, and Sarah thought back to words she had exchanged with Casey a long time ago.

_Do you ever just want to have a normal life? Have a family? Children?_

_The choice we made, to protect something bigger than ourselves, is the right choice. Hard as that is for you to remember sometimes._

Casey had chosen to give up his life with Kathleen to serve his country, and she knew he didn't regret his decision. Except that, he hadn't known he had a daughter at the time. This changed everything.

Sarah looked at Chuck, who was lost in his own musings. Finding out about Casey's past life had shaken him up, she could tell as much. She pondered asking him about it, but he looked _drawn_. He had stifled a couple of yawns already, and she knew he hadn't gotten much sleep since their trip to Phoenix.

"Well, you must be exhausted. Just like I am," she added, before he could say otherwise. "We should probably get some shut-eye, before Casey gets back."

"Yeah," he agreed, but turned to his bag, and dug a Nerd Herd laptop out of it. "I'll just set up a fake install for the Buy More before."

She nodded as she stood up, and hesitated briefly, waiting for him to look back at her. When he did, she took a step forward, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave his cheek a kiss.

"I'll be there," she said, pointing at the bedroom door on her left.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Sarah felt herself awaking.

Noise from behind her, of someone entering the room, startled her awake. Her body tensed, and her hand reached out under the pillow to grab her weapon. There was nothing there. Her confusion about that didn't last long, and he must have noticed her movement, because he announced himself.

"It's Chuck."

Sarah didn't move while she listened to him putting down his bag against the wall, and he approached his side of the bed. She was a little cold, even under the covers. "Hey," she uttered in a sleepy voice. She wondered what had taken him so long for her to fall asleep so deeply.

Despite the darkness, the red glow of the alarm clock lit up the room enough that, when he reached out and opened the sheets, he stopped to look at her.

"I guess I don't have to wonder where my Browncoat t-shirt went," he said, even as he slid into bed on his side, facing her.

Sarah felt a light blush coloring her cheeks. She had borrowed the t-shirt after he had worn it during their night in Seattle. She didn't let her embarrassment show, though. "Do you want it back?" she asked slyly.

She knew he got her meaning when something flickered in his eyes. He wasn't having any of it, though, and his expression remained serious. "It's yours," he said, "if you want it."

Sarah's throat went a little dry. He could do double entendre just as well, apparently. "I want it," she said bashfully.

It was all he needed to hear. Chuck scooted closer. His left arm wrapped between her and the mattress, his palm resting on her back, while his right hand came to slightly grip her waist. She accompanied the movement by shuffling towards him as well, and her arms circled around him. She felt him shiver under her hands when they slid under his t-shirt.

"You're freezing," he said, tightening his hold and covering her feet with his own.

"I'm better now," was all she said.

The freshly showered scent of him filled Sarah's nostrils, and she sighted contentedly against the crook of his neck. Chuck was warm, and she felt good in his embrace, lulled by his heartbeat. They lay silently for a while, losing themselves in the moment, until he froze and Chuck's right hand retracted as if she'd burned him.

"I'm sorry," he said with alarm. "Does it hurt?"

It took Sarah a second to understand what he was talking about. He'd been mindlessly drawing circles with his thumb against the scar on her left flank. She caught his wrist, and placed his palm right back.

"No," she replied. "Not anymore." When he still hadn't moved, she let her hand rub all the way up to his shoulder in order to ease him.

"Sorry," he said, and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Sarah accorded herself a few more minutes of what felt like heaven, before breaking the silence. "So, do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

Chuck sighed, almost reluctantly, and Sarah thought for a moment that he wouldn't talk to her. "What Casey said earlier…it wasn't what it sounded like," he said.

"No?"

"No."

Sarah couldn't say curiosity hadn't been nagging at her, along with an ounce (or two) of jealousy. It wasn't that she didn't trust Chuck, but the fear of him realizing that he still wanted the normal relationship he had sought for the last two years was always there. Even more so, now that it would actually make his life simpler.

Even if he was the Intersect, and he would have to lie about his real job to a civilian, a normal relationship would still give him only one cover life: the one he had for his friends and family. With her, he was forced to have two covers—one for those closest to him, and one for the government—when he still wished he had none. Besides, it wasn't like she had been the most committed girlfriend a guy could hope for. Could she even call herself his girlfriend?

The worried mood he'd been in led her to play down her own worries, though. "So, it wasn't a hot date?" Okay, maybe she wasn't above fishing for some reassurance. She leaned back to grin at him, however, and let him know she was fine.

"No," he said with a snort. "Ellie ambushed me two weeks ago. She invited a friend of hers from the hospital for dinner, and didn't tell me about it."

"That Stephanie sounds awful already," she teased.

"She kinda was. She was a little mean to Morgan." Her eyebrows went up, and he added, "He crashed the dinner, and…you know Morgan. It wasn't really going well before he arrived, anyway." He sighed again. "There's nothing I can do about it, though. It's not like they could know about us. Whatever we are…"

"Which is what's really bothering you," Sarah said. Chuck erased his guilty look quickly, but she had known him long enough to know when something was on his mind.

"I just…I wasn't gonna say anything, because, well, we've got enough on our plate already," he said, and paused. Sarah braced herself for what was coming. She wasn't sure she could reassure him like it seemed he needed right now. "What we learned about Casey…I know it's different. But I also know that if the situation presents itself, you'll leave if it means I'm safer without you."

Sarah didn't say anything. She had thought about doing just that many times, enough to know her answer would displease him. Could she really deny it?

"I know, because I'd probably think about it myself. I'm the Intersect, and people have been after me ever since I got it," he said. "You and Casey protected me and my family and my friends, but it's always been a threat."

Sarah shifted uneasily in his arms, and he let her roll onto her back. He didn't let go of her completely, though, and placed his arm across her stomach, hand still stroking the scarred area above her hip.

"So, I thought about it," he murmured, his head dropping to the pillow, right next to hers. "I don't want you to leave me. I don't care if it's dangerous. We said we'd do this together, right? I want us to do this together, and that we both decide on what to do if it comes to that."

She stayed silent, and his other hand grabbed the one resting between them. He interlocked their fingers.

"Chuck…" she breathed, but nothing else came out. She squeezed his hand—she was still there; she didn't want to go anywhere. What he was asking for, however, Sarah wasn't sure she could promise him.

"Just think about it," he said at her silence. "Ellie and I, we saw what the spy life can do…what leaving can do, and…" he broke off in hesitation, before finally saying, "I don't want us to end up like my father. Deciding what's best for the other without consulting each other. That's not a relationship. I've already gotten to that point with Ellie..."

Chuck trailed off. He dipped his head forward, his hair brushing hers, and he shifted a bit on his side to get more comfortable. Sarah found herself mute, gaze fixated on the ceiling.

After a while, Chuck spoke again. "I'll help you either way." She could hear the sleepiness in his voice. "You don't have to worry about that. We'll get them." Always ready to save her, she thought.

Sleep didn't come easily for Sarah. She felt Chuck's breathing become regular, while pleasantly tickling her skin. She didn't dare move, and stayed frozen in place for a long time, thinking about Chuck's declarations. When she got too tired to even do that, she readjusted the bedclothes with her free arm.

The cold getting to Sarah's feet again suddenly felt oddly fitting.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Sarah felt herself awaking.

Noise from outside the bedroom startled her awake. In her sleepy fogginess, she almost woke Chuck up, before she remembered where she was. As though sensing her brief scare, Chuck pulled her closer against him with the arm that he had kept around her waist all night. The sigh she felt against her neck told her that he was still sleeping. Hoping to join him back in what appeared to be a pleasant slumber, Sarah shut her eyes.

Memories of the night, and the day before, and the day before that one, kept her awake. The more they discovered, the messier her life became. And she had brought Chuck into the madness. She wasn't going back to sleep today.

Sarah carefully slipped out of bed, and rubbed her eyes. Spotting the hoodie Chuck had left out on his bag, she slipped into the piece of clothing, before running a hand through her hair. She suddenly felt a little self-conscious, walking around Casey's safe house in her unflattering PJs. She pushed the thought away and took a deep breath, before leaving the room, and carefully closing the door behind her.

"Walker," Casey greeted from the opposite side of the room.

The bright light of the day demanded her eyes adjust, and she grimaced slightly at the sensation. "Casey."

Sarah took in the room. A backpack and a Buy More briefcase had appeared on the couch to her right. Chuck's Nerd Herd laptop was open on the table, from the previous night she assumed, as well as a closed file folder. More importantly, since she was starving, the smell of coffee was filling the room. Leaning against the kitchen countertop, Casey had one cup in hand, and two more cups were displayed next to the laptop on the table, along with...doughnuts?

"Your cup's marked," Casey said, in response to her lingering look at the food and coffee.

Sarah realized she hadn't moved from the bedroom door; her fingers were still curled around the knob. She stepped further into the room, almost hesitatingly. This was weird. She and Casey hadn't been alone since she had come back to Burbank. They hadn't had much time to chat, seeing as they had had other things on their minds. Prior to that, they hadn't seen each other since they had casually parted ways when Chuck had left for Prague, and Beckman had given them some time off. Casey was just observing her now, not making a move, and she didn't know what to make of it.

Sarah focused her gaze on his. "Thanks," she finally said, emphasizing the word. Casey hadn't turned her in. He had given her a place to hide. She wasn't just thanking him for breakfast.

He understood. She saw it in the way he suddenly seemed to want to flee the scene, and fidgeted with his cup. "It was my turn to buy coffee," he said, and shrugged it off, but not before they exchanged some kind of nod.

She decided to focus on soothing her empty stomach, and sat down at the table. Caffeine should help clear her mind. Hopefully.

When he finished his beverage, Casey eventually broke the silence. "Bartowski's still asleep?"

"Mmhmm," Sarah replied, and swallowed her last bite of doughnut.

"Figured you'd wear him out," he said with a small gleam in his eyes.

She glared at him, and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. "He's had a couple of rough days."

"Heh." Casey made a face. "More like a couple of rough months," he said.

Before she could think of stopping herself, Sarah frowned. She needed to wake up.

"It got a little easier when his sister moved out, but since his idiot friend came back from Hawaii, the lies got tougher. You know how he is about this stuff."

Judging by last night's conversation, Chuck had a lot on his mind indeed. And she hadn't forgotten what he had blurted out during their stakeout either. How could she? Sarah inhaled deeply, comforted by the scent of the hoodie she was wearing.

"He's fine," Casey said, with a hint of exasperation. She thought he'd also roll his eyes at her obvious concern, but he restrained himself. "His training's been going well, actually." If she didn't know better, she'd think Casey was proud. She smiled for a fraction of second, before it faded. "That's a good thing." Evidently, Casey was able to read her thoughts this morning.

"Is it?"

"That's how he found you, isn't it?"

Not exactly, she thought, but sort of. Never mind that, that wasn't the point. "You just said it had been rough on him."

"Probably would have been worse if he hadn't."

"Hadn't what?"

"Found you."

Sarah wasn't so sure about that anymore. Not that she had been sure of it before, either. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she took another doughnut; sugar might help the caffeine.

"So, what happened?" Casey asked. "Why are you rogue?"

"I'm not rogue," she said, without thinking. She looked away for a moment, still eating her food, until a hand touched her shoulder. She blinked in surprise at the person standing next to her.

"It's Chuck," he said sotto voce.

He had sneaked up on her from behind, and was now bending forward to kiss her cheek, lightly. She seriously needed to get her head back in the game.

Casey grunted through his teeth with obvious disgust about what he'd just witnessed.

Chuck ignored it. "Good morning, Casey," he said, and entered the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. He must have woken up soon after her, since he was already dressed. "Thanks for breakfast," he added louder, to cover the sound of the sink.

Casey turned back to her. "So?"

"The Ring's after me," she said. "Somehow, they managed to frame me within the CIA too. At least, that's our theory."

Casey's eyebrows furrowed as Chuck came back into the living room. Sarah watched him take his coffee; rest seemed to have done him good. For one thing, his mood was considerably improved; and he looked better.

"Did you find it?" he asked Casey.

Casey didn't answer him. Instead, he walked to his backpack on the sofa, and dug out something from it.

"Why did you have a Ring phone in your desk drawer? Where did you get it?" he asked as he handed it to Chuck.

"You kept it at home?" Sarah said in disapproval. She had specifically told him not to.

"I didn't have time to hide it," Chuck replied, and went to grab the Buy More briefcase. It looked like his Nerd Herd equipment. "But I deactivated it, it's fine. With a Ring agent leaving Casey's apartment, it seemed kinda irrelevant anyway."

"Had he found Ring agents in your bedroom, I doubt Morgan would have found it irrelevant."

"He works above a government base, where another of these things is stored, and was deactivated the exact same way this one was," he replied with a bit of a scowl.

"Again, where did you get it?" Casey cut them off.

Chuck glanced her way, asking for permission to speak. She sighed. He frowned.

He sat down next to his computer, opposite Sarah, and immediately started pulling out various items from his kit, before turning back to Casey.

"We went to Phoenix two days ago," Chuck said. "Someone was after Sarah, and we caught her." Casey's eyebrows knitted together, and Chuck explained to him the operation they had pulled off. "Turned out, it was Amy, from the CAT Squad, and she had that on her," he said, the last part pointing at the phone.

"Didn't she get arrested in September?" Casey asked.

Sarah wondered how Casey knew about Amy. Chuck just shrugged, however, and kept busy.

Curiosity got the best of her. "What are you doing?" Sarah asked.

He looked at her, straight in the eyes. His calm expression took her by surprise. She expected him to be annoyed, just like he'd been minutes ago. "I know what I'm doing, I promise."

Thinking back to their conversation the previous night, she gave him a nod. She trusted him. There weren't any doubts about that.

Sarah watched him work, concentration etched adorably on his face, and she thought back to the early days of their relationship. Back when he still spent time in the cage, working on hard drives and whatever other computer pieces he repaired. Her mind often glazed over when it came to computer stuff. "Do you want help? Or need something?"

This time he was the one who was surprised. He glanced up, and seeing that she was serious, looked like he was considering her question. "Hmm, no, it shouldn't take me too long," he said, and gave her a brilliant smile, "but thank you." Sarah heard an annoyed noise, but decided to enjoy a few more seconds of that smile. She wasn't sure if Chuck would be more grateful if she had just offered him a kidney.

"Stop flirting then, and get to it," Casey cut off—again. "What does the Ring want with you?" he asked her next, leaning on the back of the chair at the end of the table.

"Who knows?" She saw Chuck's eyebrows shoot up, but he didn't divert his attention from the Ring phone. She was tired of wondering every day the exact same thing, but she figured Casey couldn't quite understand her irritation. It wasn't fair to take it out on him, either, so she carried on, before his unusual patience wore off. "They want me dead. That's all I know for sure."

"Because of Rome?"

Sarah's eyes cut to Chuck's. That was news for the both of them. "What about Rome?"

Casey threw her the file that had been waiting in front of him. "The CIA thinks you stole something from their facility in Rome." He sat down, and Sarah started to go through the file; finally she had something to focus on. "Took me some time to figure it out, but I think it was part of the Cipher from the Intersect 2.0."

"The one Chuck destroyed?"

Casey nodded. "The government kept parts of it for study, but decided it was safer not to have them all stored in one place. Probably to avoid another Larkin disaster."

Although, Casey kind of had a point—Bryce had been involved in the destruction of both government Intersects—Sarah ignored the remark. Bryce hadn't been responsible, at least the second time, and he was dead; besides, a page from the file caught her attention. It was the picture of one of the men that had attacked her in Lisbon.

What was the Ring up to? "Was the component Keller wanted part of the 2.0 as well?"

"Not sure. It looked like it could be to me, but I didn't get confirmation. Though, it seems that the other half of the Cipher was stored in L.A. I checked this morning with my contacts." Casey moved a little to get a closer look at the page she had reacted to. "Justin Sullivan. He was at the Roman CIA facility that day. They think you killed him," he said. "You know him?"

Sarah knew him, alright. "Yeah, I, uh…" Perhaps sensing her hesitation, Chuck looked up from his work, with concern apparent on his face. "I did kill him," she said. Casey and Chuck both frowned. "He attacked me, so he was probably Ring, I think. But it was in Lisbon, not in Rome." Sarah had defended herself when she had escaped, and it had been his ID that had revealed that the CIA was involved somehow.

"How do you know all of this?" Chuck asked Casey. The latter glanced her way, but didn't respond; like Chuck, Casey had investigated her disappearance. Chuck didn't miss the look, and caught its meaning. "You should have told me."

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Chuck shook his head, but went back to whatever he was doing.

"What happened in Lisbon?" Casey asked.

Sarah decided it was time to tell Casey about it—all of it: Lisbon, Victorville, the plane to Montréal, Seattle…

Though it had been his own situation that had brought them here, Casey was now sticking up for Sarah, and allowing her and Chuck access to his safe house. He had covered up earlier for the two of them with Beckman. And even more, he had looked for her—for the truth, all while trying to keep Chuck out of trouble. Sarah felt like a piece of the weight she'd been carrying around had been lifted and supported by her partner. No matter what her CIA status said, they were still partners.

Throughout her tale, Chuck kept throwing in his trademark comments. He certainly knew how to lighten the atmosphere, and helped her with the uncomfortable parts. She had survived through this without him at first, but Chuck made everything better, even if technically nothing really was. The way he looked at things, and life in general...he just had that power over her now—had had it for a long time.

As she related the events, Casey gave her more details on what he had found out during his research. Meanwhile, Chuck had disassembled the Ring phone into numerous pieces, attached to several wires, and linked to his computer. By the time Sarah finished, he spoke up.

"Guys, I think I found something."


	8. The L.A. Cell

_**December 3, 2009** _

"Hey, it's me," she heard after the knock. "Sarah?"

"Here," she called through the open door.

Sarah had just finished putting her hair into a ponytail. After a last glance at the mirror, she moved to step out of the bathroom, and noticed the exact moment Chuck saw her. It wasn't just the few too many seconds it took his right foot to come back to earth when he came to a halt. Chuck also slightly goggled at her, even as his jaw loosened a bit.

"Everything okay?" Sarah asked him. She waited.

Chuck averted his eyes briefly, and the shadow of a blush appeared on his face. She couldn't help but be pleased by his reaction, although it was likely due to surprise more than anything. She was simply wearing a pair of jeans and one of her old Orange Orange tank tops after all. It did look considerably better than PJ pants and a too large hoodie however, which had been what she'd had on when he'd saw her last.

"Uh, yeah, the van needed gas, and Casey just dropped me off first," he said. "You look nice."

"Thanks." She smiled. "What's that?"

"Oh, uh." Remembering himself, Chuck extended the content of his hand to her. "This is for you." As she took it, and before she could thank him, he added, "I'm sorry it's a rose. They were out of gardenias."

"You're apologizing for offering me a single red rose out of the blue?" she said in disbelief. "When did you even have time to get it?"

"Actually…Casey got it for me."

The giggle escaped Sarah's mouth before she knew it. "What?"

"Well, I was busy prepping the van, so…"

"So, you got Casey to buy me a rose?" Sarah looked at the flower, and brought it to her nose out of habit, still chuckling.

"Well, no." He gave her his crooked smile. "He bought the rose for me, and  _I_ 'm offering it to you."

Without second-guessing it, Sarah stepped forward. She lifted her free hand to touch his face, before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. Even in her spontaneity, she didn't make it last. Though he hadn't kept his distance altogether, Chuck hadn't kissed her since his staggering "I love you," and she didn't want to press him.

"Thank you," she said, leaning back, and left her hand on his chest.

"You're welcome. I can't take you out on a date, but I can at least do that."

There were parts of the dating process they could skip to if they just stayed inside the safe house, Sarah thought, but she knew that not being able to date like normal people bothered Chuck more than he let on, and chose to keep it light.

"Does it mean chocolate's next? 'Cause I admit, I wouldn't mind." She felt his chuckle against her palm. "Hmm, you should probably get a new jacket," she added, and patted the two bullet holes. "Does it still hurt?" she asked.

"A little. It's just a bruise, though."

Sarah leaned against the edge of the table next to them, admiring her flower.

"And yeah, I should change it, but I haven't had time to get home yet." Chuck unzipped his jacket, as he walked to the radiator, and turned the handle. "I put the heat on before I left, but it's like ninety degrees in here, now." He frowned in her direction, but didn't voice whatever thoughts that must have brought on the look, and slipped out of his jacket.

It revealed another one of his black long sleeved t-shirt. With his black pants, and black chucks, it completed what she assumed was his usual spy uniform. He filled it quite well. He sat down on the chair near her, and didn't seem to catch her appreciative glance.

"Look, uh, about last night…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Chuck."

What? The words broke out of her mouth without thought. Their conversation from the previous night had been frequently on her mind since she had woken up, but she hadn't planned on making any promises.

To an outside witness, the scene must have been comical. Just like the both of them had been surprised by Chuck's declaration of love the previous day, they'd again been taken aback by her statement, and the certainty of her tone. Chuck looked dumbfounded, and his month had opened and closed several times already. Sarah wasn't any better. She could feel the flush passing across her entire being. They needed to stop having moments like this, or the Ring wouldn't need to kill her.

It wasn't just surprise that she'd chosen this moment to talk, because the fact that she'd said it at all was completely unexpected. There was also the discovery that she'd absolutely meant it.

She had doubted that she could make a commitment like this one. Fear, cold feet, worry over his safety…there were many reasons why not. But she had spoken the truth. Ultimately, she knew: she could never walk away from him—from them.

Getting over his shock, he must have realized that she was inwardly sinking, for he reached out to take her hand, and smiled up at her. "Come here," he said, lifting their joined hands in the air.

Sarah took a cleansing breath, as he rubbed his thumb against her knuckles—both had the calming effects intended—before moving. She let go of his hand, and put an arm around his shoulders to lower down across his lap, his arm coming securely around her waist.

Sarah closed her eyes and touched her forehead to Chuck's for a moment. She wasn't going anywhere.

He brought his other hand to her neck, brushing her skin in a warm pattern, and this time when she slightly pulled back, he was the one kissing her.

He tasted like the mints Casey kept in his car, except that she had never had one this good. It started slow and tender, like most of their kisses had been since Seattle, and Sarah appreciated every second of it; then, Chuck's fingers tangled with her hair and he deepened the kiss.

His fervor was enthralling to say the least. Sarah twisted a bit so that half her body was facing him, and he didn't disappoint. He pulled her closer, crushing her against him, and leaving a trail of heat everywhere his fingers wandered.

In view of their luck, it didn't take long for Casey to stride in. "Good God," he growled. "I'll wait in the van." He turned back on his heels, and slammed the door.

"Ergh," Chuck groaned, but didn't say anything. They were both panting, and Sarah buried her head into the crook of his neck.

He held her tight. She figured Chuck stayed still out of embarrassment, but in her case, frustration was larger. Once their breathing regulated, she pecked his neck, and levered herself out of his lap. He'd need some space.

The rose fell to the floor, completely ruined. It somehow had gotten trapped between the two of them. Chuck stole another kiss from her lips, before she got out of reach, and glanced sheepishly at Sarah as he picked the flower up. "Chocolate it is, next time," he said.

Sarah walked to the sofa to grab her sweatshirt, and since Chuck was watching her, she put it on with extra-care. From what she could tell, he appreciated it. She put on her boots and grabbed her jacket as well. When she was ready and Chuck still hadn't made any attempt to stand from the chair, though, she gave him a quizzical look.

"Um, I think I'll need another minute."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Seriously, what the heck is this place?" Chuck said with a puff. "A security company, an IT start-up, real estate, event planning." Chuck ruffled through the file in front of him. This building apparently housed several (rather random) companies. "A paper company. Oh interesting, a company specialized in wooden artefacts…"

"Interesting?" Casey said.

Chuck opened his mouth to reply, but Sarah spoke first, "One of these companies has to be a front."

After disassembling Amy's Ring phone this morning, Chuck had traced several calls that had been made with it. The calls had gone out to various locations, some of them just bouncing off various servers, but Chuck had managed to identify one location, here in L.A. They had decided to start there, and figure out who Amy was in contact with, and why this place.

To that end, Casey and Chuck had gone back to Castle and borrowed the surveillance van and equipment, before picking up Sarah at the safe house. They were now in the van parked across the street from the building in question.

"Maybe Amy just called her hairdresser with her Ring phone, or something. Pretty sure there must be one," Chuck said. Like in the old days, Casey and Sarah just ignored him. The former was engrossed in a file; the latter had her attention on her computer. At least, Sarah had the shadow of a smile on her face.

"You should check the video surveillance from the lobby. See if you flash," she told him. They had only managed access to the lobby cameras, the rest of the building apparently being a lot more secure, and they didn't want to get caught before even knowing what they were dealing with. Chuck closed the file, and launched said tape on one of the monitors in front of him. "I'm running their faces through the government databases, just in case."

"Alright," Casey said, looking up. "So, after you got Amy arrested, Bartowski, she escaped during her transfer to Langley."

"Damn, they're quick," Chuck commented, while Casey started typing on the computer next to him.

"Reports say that the suspected agent in charge of the team that broke her out was Sydney Prince." He turned his monitor in Chuck and Sarah's direction, displaying a picture of a brunette woman. "Head of the Ring cell in L.A. She's known for having tried to recruit several government agents before." Casey took the time to grunt his opinion of that, before addressing Sarah. "Do you know her? Could she be the one that wants you dead?"

Sarah squinted at the screen. "Doesn't ring a bell, no. She's probably just an intermediary. I'll look at her file, see if there's a link."

"Wait a minute. I know that guy," Chuck said, pointing at the video from the lobby.

"You flashed?" Casey asked.

"No, I've seen him before. Um, at that cocktail party we went to, at uh…Storman's house. The golden briefcase with the Ring discs?"

"So he's Ring?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not sure. I was robbing the safe of an office when he came in. I didn't know who he was, and I had to tranq him to leave, but this can't be a coincidence, right?"

"Uh-uh." Casey shook his head. "I'm gonna go snoop around," he said, with a check to his gun's magazine. "Maybe I'll be able to plant more bugs." He tucked his firearm into the waistband of his pants, put on his earpiece, and left.

Sarah went back to Sydney Prince's file, Chuck to the surveillance video. They kept silent, except for the occasional seemingly useless flashes Chuck had. After a moment, and approximately twenty-three stolen glances at him, Sarah seemed to have decided to tell him what was on her mind.

"If this doesn't lead anywhere…" she started.

"We don't know that yet." He tried to stay casual, and optimistic. He wasn't doing a very good job at it, though. Sarah could read him like a book sometimes.

"I know, but…if it doesn't." She paused, and stopped what she was doing to turn toward him. He did the same. "You know I can't stay in that safe house forever, right?"

"I know." At the dubious look she gave him, he chuckled a bit. "I know," he repeated. "I never thought Sarah Walker would live in seclusion well. Imagine that." Her mouth adorably pursed to the right, which meant, she wasn't exactly sure what to make of that. "Although, I could fix you up with a great entertainment system for a good price, I've got some pull at the Buy—"

"There's movement in the parking lot." Casey's voice perked up in their headphones. "Looks like they are moving some stuff. I'm sending you a picture of the video wires, Bartowski."

Chuck looked at his phone. "Okay, uh, splice into the third and fifth ones from the left. I should be able to do the rest from here."

He did just that, and finished just as his phone buzzed. Ellie's picture appeared on the screen. Damn it. He hadn't talked to his sister for days now. He really should answer the call.

"You can take it. It's fine," Sarah said, before turning on her comm, "we got it, Casey."

"Roger that. Coming back."

Chuck exchanged another look with Sarah. Ever since he had seen her on his plane to Montréal, he had tried to appear professional with her. He wanted to prove to her that he was a competent agent. Prove that she could count on him when it came to spying. Prove that he could help her. Taking personal calls on a mission didn't cry professionalism. Yet, Sarah didn't seem bothered by it at all. She jerked her head at the phone, urging him to pick up.

"Hey El," he spoke into his iPhone.

"Chuck, hey! I'm out shopping, and I just wanted to confirm for tonight. You're still coming to dinner, right?"

Chuck shut his eyes closed in a grimace. Ellie had started to check on him like this not long after Bryce Larkin had decided to convert him into a Human Intersect. This tendency, to always assume Chuck might cancel on her at the last minute, had significantly increased since he had gotten back from training in August. He scratched his cheek.

"Um, you didn't invite anybody else, did you?" he asked, almost hopeful that she'd say she did, and give him an excuse to bail.

"No, I did not."

"Ellie," he said in a warning tone.

It generated a snerk. "I told you I wouldn't." He still wasn't convinced. Always the perceptive one, Ellie kept on. "I still wish you'd start meeting people—"

"Ellie," Chuck tried to interject.

"I'm not saying dating, Chuck, but at least socializing more than just hanging out with your creepy co-workers—"

"Hey!"

"It's true. But," Ellie said, "after how it went down with Stephanie, I'm not looking forward to a repeat. I'd like to keep some of my friends."

"I'm sorry," he said, with a sigh. It had come to a point where his sister was even more worried about him now, than before he had met Sarah. It was ridiculous. His life wasn't the mess it had been back then. His five-year plan was all pinned down. It was simple really: Helping Sarah escape from whoever was after her—they now knew that it was the Ring—and clear her name with the government. From there, he'd just have to improvise. He was looking forward to improvising. Unfortunately, this plan couldn't be shared with Ellie.

"It's fine, Chuck," she replied. "I've decided to blame Morgan."

"Sis—"

"You should have stopped it, though. You know better than that."

"Yes, ma'am." Chuck couldn't help but let out a small laugh, and pictured his sister in the middle of a grocery store doing the same. They weren't going to forget that dinner any time soon.

"So? Are you coming?" As luck would have it, the van's door opened at that moment to let Casey in, and Chuck waited a few seconds too long. "Chuck, is everything okay?"

Ellie's intonation had completely sobered up from amusement, and a really cold feeling waved through him. As though she could sense that something was off, Sarah chose that moment to swivel and face him. Looking at her and into her eyes gave him the strength he had been lacking. He wasn't proud of what he was doing to his sister, and loathed himself for it more often than not, but Sarah…she was his reason. He needed to do this for her.

"Sure. I'm sorry, sis. I've been working on a repair—a nasty virus—and I'm a little distracted." Ellie knew how he could get when computers were involved. And sure enough, she immediately apologized for disturbing him. "No, no, it's fine, El. Um, I might be late, but I'll be there. Is eight okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Devon and I have the morning off tomorrow. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

As he hung up, Sarah's chilled hand came to squeeze Chuck's in comfort. He knew it wasn't the end of it. Ellie had not been persuaded by his busy act. The longer he went, the less his game was good enough to deceive her. He'd have to find a solution soon. Maybe talk to Devon about it. Using her husband against her, again—how low could he go?

"What do you think?" Sarah asked Casey. She had been studying the video surveillance of the parking lot in the meantime. "Normal activities or they're moving?"

"It looks rushed to me."

"Yeah," she said. "Tac-team, then?" Casey nodded.

"What?" Chuck asked. He was still a little preoccupied by the conversation with his sister.

"We might lose them if we wait," Sarah said.

"Did you flash on anyone? It would help with the General," Casey asked him.

"Yeah, three guys so far. Nothing major, though." Chuck moved to type on his keypad and show them the pictures, but his eyes were caught by the sight of a brunette woman in the building's lobby. "Looks like we got our excuse for Beckman," he said, with a nod at his monitor.

Sydney Prince had just showed up.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Staying in the van sucked.

Even if she was currently following the action through the comms and monitors (some of the agents on the tactical team wore cameras on their helmets), Sarah wasn't  _in_  on the action. And it sucked.

Not only was she starting to get bored—although she had to admit, admiring Chuck and his newly learned training was interesting—but she could have used the exercise. She had felt extremely stiff ever since Phoenix.

She stood so rigidly half the time, it made her back ache. She had gotten a few hours of good sleep, but her fatigue was evident. She could sense that her body and mind were just a bit slower than normal. As much as her faintly aching jaw would stipulate to the contrary, her hand-to-hand with Amy hadn't been very intense, and the fight at Keller's cabin had been barely a warm-up.

It wasn't just that. The full range of emotions she couldn't discern from one another, let alone understand, had her all pumped up. Chuck's company had many,  _many_  upsides, but she couldn't deny their emotional rollercoaster hadn't had some seriously stressful moments too.

Judging by the phone call he had exchanged with Ellie right before they had contacted General Beckman, Chuck had his own dealings with stress. His relationship with his sister used to be so remarkable, Sarah often had envied the siblings even if she couldn't really relate to it and understand, but now the invisible wall created by both the spy life and her rogue situation seemed to be interfering more than ever.

"We've reached the sixteenth floor. Going in," Casey said through the channel the tactical team was using. Lucky bastard.

He and Chuck had called Beckman to inform her of their discovery. It had been a huge coincidence, of course, that Chuck identified the man from the Storman mission as he walked along the streets, and then Sydney Prince had showed up. Sarah wasn't sure how Beckman couldn't see through the cover ups they had been feeding her lately. She had hidden in the front seat so as to not be seen, which had been a really odd experience.

Even odder was being confined to the van now that agents were everywhere. Chuck and Casey had told her she could go back to the safe house, that it would probably be safer, but she had refused. Stuck in the van was bad enough, stuck in the safe house without any idea of what was happening was out of question.

"Damn it," Chuck said. "We're pinned down on Level Seven."

Sarah flipped through several video feeds to get a better look of the subterranean levels where Chuck was.

"Next time, I'm going down," Casey piped in. "You're getting all the fun, Bartowski."

"I'd happily switch places," Chuck replied in a strained voice.

Sarah's ears perked up at his tone. She activated the channel only she, Chuck and Casey were using. "Everything okay, Chuck?"

It took a moment for him to respond. "They aren't sparing ammunition," he said in a whisper, likely hiding what he was saying from the rest of the team, "but we're good." He paused briefly. "I think Eight's the last level."

To stop whatever transfer or delocalization the Ring had been doing, the tactical team had started with the parking lot. A second team had taken the front entrance. From there, a team had gone upwards with Casey, while the other went downwards with Chuck.

Most of the above ground floors were regular offices, even if Sarah had no doubts the desk workers were Ring as well, whether they were aware of it or not. They had therefore not encountered much resistance.

Below ground, however, was another story. Every room, every hallway, every inch of the floors had been marred or affected through shootings, flash bangs, battering rams, or at times hand-to-hand combat. The underground levels looked more like a Ring facility than an office building—with training equipment. They had, for example, found a shooting range. Unless your name was Casey, it wasn't exactly the regular break room you'd expect. Why it turned out to be Chuck, rather than Casey, that had to clear this part of the building was still on her mind, but he had been focused and very efficient.

She heard Chuck distribute instructions, as she kept inspecting her screens. They had yet to find Sydney Prince.

"Chuck, be careful. Something's off."

She waited a minute for his answer. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, just…something is," she replied. She couldn't put her finger on it, but her instincts hadn't failed her since Lisbon. She trusted them, and right now, they were shouting at her that something wasn't right.

The Ring agents weren't trying to escape. It looked more like they were slowing down the tac-team's progress—buying time. But for what? Where had the head of the L.A. cell gone?

"Did you see that?" Something had caught Sarah's eyes on the monitors. She kept surfing through the different cameras to get a better look.

"Yeah, I can't get past those guys, though."

There was no way they could act on what they had noticed. A group of Ring agents had been heading to the other side of the building—maybe downstairs—and it looked like Prince was one of them. Chuck and his team were too busy dodging bullets on their side of the building, but there might be another way to get passed the fighting. Fraught with indecision, Sarah looked around the inside of the van, already listing in her head what she'd need.

Screw it. "I'm going in," she said.

"What? No. That's too dangerous."

"We need Prince."

A hint of excitement travelled through her, as she put on a tac-team uniform. She was worried, but she couldn't help the anticipation. She wasn't reckless about it, but she did love these moments. She'd rather be with Chuck than stuck here, anyway.

Probably sensing that he wouldn't change her mind, and not being able to talk freely with the team around him, Chuck just told her to be careful, and that he'd tried to join her as soon as he could pass the guards currently blocking his way.

After a last check to make sure her cell phone tracking app was on, Sarah made a quick job of entering the building and going upstairs. She had noticed that one of the offices on the fourth floor had a private elevator. Sarah might be able to get to Level Eight with it. Arriving at the office, she immediately called the elevator. It wasn't clear where it would lead, but since Chuck said that Level Eight seemed to be the last one, Sarah would try the last button. She took off her helmet, activated the camera on it, and checked with her PDA to see if it worked. Posing the helmet on the floor, she adjusted the angle of the camera, pressed the last button of the elevator, and stepped out. She'd know if someone was waiting wherever this elevator was going.

Nobody appeared on the feed; she called back the elevator when its doors closed again.

"Chuck, I think I found a way to get passed the fighting. I'm gonna try, okay," she said, and didn't wait for his reply to step in the elevator again.

She forgot all about putting her helmet back on, when the doors opened and she heard voices. Sarah flattened against the side, and looked around, squeezing her tranq gun a little tighter. She spotted a group of Ring agents through the glass walls of the room she was now hiding in. They were obviously discussing their next move, in an amateurish way, Sarah noted. From the distance, she saw Chuck at one of the entrances, completely unnoticed.

It must have been why he hadn't been able to reply to her, as it seemed he had weaved his way out of the gunplay to come find her. He peered at the inside of the room, likely going over different options, until he spotted something. He put down his tranq gun at the door, narrowed his eyes briefly at the men in the room, and then they rolled back in his head. Chuck smiled.

He took a run-up, and dashed forward in a handspring. His body rounded in a perfect flowing movement. He landed on his feet again, only to repeat the motion, gaining speed. The third time, however, his hands didn't touch the ground. Instead, they landed on a metallic chair, and he grabbed it, still moving.

His tumbling took another dimension with the length of the chair added to Chuck's six foot four. He used it next to come to a stop. The four chair's feet touched the floor with a smash. Chuck got a hold of it, and stayed up in the air momentarily, his body aligned in a handstand, before folding at the waist. Twisting, he directed his clenched legs at someone, and as he landed, both of his joined feet crashed into the man's chest.

Ouch! That had to hurt! The scream that rang out indicated as much.

Shifting his hold on the back of the chair, Chuck lifted it vertically into the air as he straightened, and spun around, knocking three guys out in quick succession.

Sarah winced in sympathy.

Another man used the moment to charge Chuck, and swung a punch at him. He was too slow for the Intersect. Chuck ducked, and used the chair to roughly sweep his legs.

This was officially a chair slaughter.

After rising back to his full height, Chuck pitched the piece of furniture. It left his hand, flying flawlessly across the room, as if the projectile had been created for it. Two guys were on the receiving end of the throw. They collapsed to the ground in a loud thud.

Chair: 7. Bad guys: 0.

Turning with a predatory smile at the last man standing, Chuck rolled up his sleeves. She would have been put off by the display of violence coming from him, but she could tell by his eyes that he didn't enjoy hitting people like the smile might suggest. It was the feats from the Intersect that were fun. And she had to admit, it was pretty impressive what he could do.

As they started circling around each other, Sarah swore she'd heard the guy whimper even through the glass. She should probably go in, and just put him out of his misery now by tranquing him. The reason she had left the van, however, distracted her from the scene.

She heard a commotion from the hallway. Gunfire had been roaring at one end of it; this wasn't news, but the noise had come from the other way. Sarah left the room to head toward this direction. She started jogging, and stopped at the corner, flattened against the wall. She could hear voices but couldn't discern the words.

She peeked. Three armed men in suits and Sydney Prince were talking in front of what looked like a coffee vending machine.

A coffee vending machine?

Sarah pondered waiting for reinforcements, but it didn't seem that they were going anywhere, although they appeared to be waiting for something. A cappuccino, perhaps.

Before she could decide on what to do, a man in casual clothing, similar to what Chuck wore on his off time, joined them, and she saw Prince pushing several buttons on the vending machine. What was she doing?

Rounding the corner, Sarah fired her own tranq gun at the three armed men first, and shouted at them to freeze. One guard went down. As expected, they didn't listen, and she took cover against the wall when they turned their own weapons on her.

"Sarah?" She heard Chuck through her earpiece, but couldn't reply. "Sarah, do you copy?"

Repeating her actions, Sarah got the man dressed in the nerdy t-shirt, but it was too late. She saw the vending machine pivot on itself, taking Prince and one of the other men to the other side of the wall. What the hell was that?

It took her a few minutes to get the final man down, as he had stayed to guard the vending machine, which had magically reappeared in the meantime. Sarah rushed up to it and stared at it. Remembering Prince's movements, she decided to push the buttons the exact same way.

The floor started moving. It pivoted again. Where was she going?

"Chuck? I found Prin—"

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Sarah? Sarah, do you copy?"

Chuck stooped down at the door to grab his tranq gun. Sarah wasn't responding. He began jogging out of the room to check the rest of the floor.

He hadn't made more than two steps when the cacophony of gunshots coming from where the tac-team had been pinned down by Ring agents was cut off by…other gunshots. Chuck stopped, and immediately turned on his heels toward the new sound. What was that?

Chuck carefully made his way down the hallway.

"Chuck? I found Prin—"

"Sarah? Where are you?" Chuck tried again into his second comm.

And again: nothing.

Why did she get cut off? Had someone seen her? Had she been made?

Chuck quickened his pace. He paused at the corner, took a deep breath, and looked with his weapon at the ready. Three men were down at the bottom of a coffee vending machine.

A coffee vending machine?

Chuck wasn't sure how he felt about Ring agents patiently waiting for their cappuccino while a government tactical team was invading the building.

He waited a little while to make sure there wasn't anybody else, before approaching the scene. They had been tranqued; same darts as the ones Chuck was using. It was someone from the team, but nobody had signalled that they'd been to this area. It had to be Sarah.

He looked around. There was nowhere to go. Where had she gone?

When his eyes studied the machine buttons, Chuck flashed.

It wasn't a vending machine. It was a door.

Chuck pressed several buttons, following the combination the Intersect had given him. He immediately felt like he was in the middle of a double bus as the vehicle was taking a curve. The floor moved below his feet, and turned, taking him and the coffee machine to a tunnel on the other side of the wall.

It was suddenly completely silent; the sounds of gunshots roaring away in the building had stopped abruptly as soon as the machine stopped moving. It was also bright; very bright. The ground and walls were whiter than snow. Chuck's eyes quickly adjusted. All he saw was an elevator at the end of a monochrome white tunnel.

Chuck made a step towards it and immediately came to a halt when the machine went back the other way, letting noise back in for a brief instant. Sensors, Chuck figured. Inspecting the wall he had come from, he concluded that there wasn't any way back.

He kept looking around as he started walking again. Slowly, he observed the walls and ground and ceiling during his progress. He couldn't see anywhere else to go. Should he get into that elevator? What would be waiting for him if he did?

Sarah might need him. He didn't have time to wait for someone to use the machine again, and take him back on the other side. He called the elevator.

A shiver ran through his back as he watched the doors opening, ready to fire. But he was still alone. He took the time to make sure of it before letting the doors slide close. It started moving instantly. Not up or down, however, but backwards. What the heck was this thing? Although he could feel the speed of the movement, the ride was surprisingly smooth. It took a turn left, and then onwards, and finally up, until it opened.

Flattened against the side, Chuck was blinded by rays of sunshine. His left hand left the hold it had on his gun to lift up and protect his vision from the light.

He was at the far end of the parking lot. He hurried to the streets, and looked left. A passing car honked at him, probably surprised to see him surge out from the parking lot, and it made him jump. But he didn't pay attention, although his heart was now pounding, and he twisted his neck to look right, and then left and right again.

He scrutinized every detail on the ground, on the surrounding buildings, but there was nothing.

No signs of Sarah, Prince, or anybody.

Chuck rushed back to the surveillance van.

It may have been December, but the air felt like the hottest day of summer. Panic made him start to sweat. When he slid open the van's door, just like he expected, Sarah wasn't there. Tugging his phone out, he checked his tracking app to see where she was. There was nothing there.

Sarah was gone.


	9. The Debriefing

_**December 3, 2009** _

Sarah tugged at her vest, trying to pull it free of the wall she was currently flattened against.

She winced in disgust; the wall seemed to want to stay glued to her clothes. She didn't have time to care about staying clean, however; she was too busy dodging bullets from the man protecting Sydney Prince.

Sarah had followed them into a series of underground tunnels, and it was only now that the shooting had started that she'd noticed how old and disgusting it really was. Once the coffee vending machine had taken her on to the other side, she'd ended up in a long white hallway. Far away, she'd seen a white panel from the wall slide close. If she hadn't been looking for it, she probably wouldn't have seen the minuscule switch beside it. It had led her to where she was now.

She'd been doggedly pursuing her quarry through this underground labyrinth of tunnels for what had to have been over twenty minutes now. Prince and her man had spotted her quickly, and had started shooting at her to cover their escape.

Then abruptly, the gunshots stopped.

Sarah sucked in a breath and glanced around the corner.

They were both gone, leaving her only with the sewage smell that was starting to enflame her nostrils. Following in the direction they had taken, she suddenly heard the echo of a distant woman's cry.

Sarah quickened her pace, and let out a curse when she saw a flashbang rolling towards her.

She barely had time to react; only just managing to shield her eyes before it blasted into a white expanse of chaos and disorientation. She was sure she let out a scream when her knees hit the ground, but all she could hear was a ringing that was threatening to make her head explode. Gripping her weapon tighter with one hand, she used the other one to push herself up wonkily. She staggered forward against the haze, desperately trying to maintain her balance. If she waited, Prince would get away.

She wasn't going to let that happen.

Waiting for the effect to run off, the first thing she saw was two feet on the floor at the next corner. Approaching with caution, the macabre sight she discovered made a wave of nausea wash over her, and she felt the need to avert her eyes briefly. Sydney Prince was lying on the floor—throat slaughtered. Sarah took a series of short breaths to get some air, and flattened her left palm against the wall closest to her to take hold.

Looking around, she had no idea where the man had gone. He had apparently decided to clean up behind him, and likely used another hidden passage to escape. This time, she was too late. She wouldn't find it. After observing the scene closely, taking extra time because she could still feel the lingering effects of the flashbang blast, she resigned herself. He was gone.

Deciding to search Prince's body, Sarah swore to herself when her movements still weren't steady enough to avoid the pool of blood. Beside the corpse, she saw a familiar looking folding knife—a Spyderco. She used to own one herself, but had never slaughtered anybody with hers, however. The thought made her shiver. If the Ring could do that to one of their own, she preferred not to imagine what was waiting for her.

Since she didn't find anything, there wasn't much left to do aside from heading back the way she came. She tried the comm, but hadn't been able to hear anything since entering the white tunnel. Now back in it, she had no idea how to get back inside the building. The only way left to go was to take the elevator at the end of it.

As soon as the doors opened, Chuck jumped at her, his tranquilizer gun out.

"Sarah? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked frantically.

"I'm fine," she said, despite the daylight hurting her eyes and making her head hurt.

Chuck let out a brief sigh. "What happened to you?" he asked. "Are you bleeding?"

Oh right, her little run after Prince had left her grubby. She must look great.

"No, it's not mine," she said, motioning at the blood. "I found Prince," she added between two breaths. She started rubbing her uniform.

"Where is she?" Chuck asked, still eyeing her head to foot.

Chuck had never been very comfortable with all the killing the spy life entailed. He had reacted fine to the news about Rafe Gruber and Justin Sullivan, but this one had been messy. Sarah just shook her head at him, almost afraid to say the words.

He must have been a little out of it because his only reaction was a simple, "Oh."

She explained to him where she'd gone, how she'd found Prince's body, and where it was, so that he could tell the tactical team.

"You should go back inside before anybody sees you," he told her as they walked to the van.

Sarah used some water to wash her hands first, while Chuck gave the tac-team instructions over his comm, and she climbed inside the vehicle. She moved to close it behind her, but Chuck followed.

"You're not going back?"

"No, it's fine. They're done in the building. It's just clean up now," he said, and collapsed in a seat in front of where she was standing.

"Oh, okay." Sarah leaned on the desk, and wrestled with her vest to slip out of it.

"Here," Chuck said, grabbing her vest to help her out.

"Thanks." Sarah exhaled loudly. "Prince is dead. The way they disposed of her…" She wrinkled her nose at the memory. "She was our link to Amy," she said with frustration.

"Hey, it's not over," Chuck told her, and took her hand. He could almost make her believe everything would be okay with the cute smile her gave her. "We got an entire Ring building. Let's see what we found here before worrying about Prince." He reached out to pat her shoulders, and his expression changed somewhat—to something blanker—as he brushed off some dirt. "What exactly was that tunnel? You look like you spent a week in a trench."

"Thanks," she deadpanned, but then chuckled. He didn't. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." He moistened his lips nervously. "Can I see your phone?"

Sarah frowned. "Uh, sure."

Chuck kept observing her closely, and began running his fingers through the device, as soon as she handed him her cell phone. "What is it?"

"I'm just—I'm just making sure it works, that's all," he said.

Why? It was on; she had made sure of it before leaving the van. "Did it not work underground?"

"I guess not," he said absently.

She ran the back of her hand against her forehead. He hadn't known where she was; that must be what bothered him. "I'm sorry." Chuck didn't divert his eyes from the phone, and Sarah grabbed his chin with her right hand to lift it and make sure he looked at her. "I had it with me. I turned it on," she said. "You would have found me."

He stared at her for a few seconds, before relenting. "I know," he said and gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"I had to go after Prince, but I wasn't leaving," she said. "I knew you'd be there."

This time, his smile broadened and he seemed to put aside whatever worries that remained. He stood up awkwardly, bending a little because of the lack of space.

"I know," he repeated. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, before closing the distance to give her a kiss.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Chuck closed the distance from the hallway to the conference table.

When arriving at the Buy More after he had dropped Sarah off at the safe house, Chuck had had to deal with a few customers, thereby making him late. Casey, who had ridden with one of the agents from the tactical team, was waiting for him down at Castle.

"Sorry," he said out of breath, hoping to appease Casey's glare. His partner was standing rigidly in front of the table. Chuck joined him, turning to face the screens on his right. "Oh, uh, General, Agent Shaw," he said with a nod to both of them when he noticed that the conference call had begun.

Chuck frowned at the sight. General Beckman wasn't in her office. She was sitting at a large oval table. Shaw had joined her. He was standing, leaning against the wall behind the oval table. They apparently had decided to use their own conference room.

"It's nice of you to join us, Agent Bartowski," Beckman said dryly. Chuck opened his mouth to answer but she carried on, without preamble. "Our analysts have started studying the data recovered from the assault. It appears that the building was indeed the Ring cell in Los Angeles."

"Do we know what they were doing before the assault?" Casey asked at once.

Shaw nodded and clicked on the remote he had in hand. Immediately, the picture of a man, in his twenties, appeared on one of the secondary screens. Chuck recognized him; he was one of the men that Sarah had tranqued at the coffee vending machine. "This is Manoosh Depark. He was arrested on site. He trained as a computer engineer, and dropped out of MIT after his freshman year."

"Classic geek tragedy," Casey mumbled, before turning to Chuck. "Sound familiar?"

Chuck gave him a sarcastic smile, like he did every time Casey made a geek joke. "What was he doing for the Ring?" he asked.

"We think he was working on the building of a Ring Intersect," Shaw said.

"The Ring has an Intersect?"

"We don't know for sure. Depark hasn't talked so far," Shaw replied. "It seems that they are working on one, but we don't think they've achieved it, yet."

"We probably stopped their progress, thanks to your discovery. Good job, team," Beckman said. Casey nodded at his General.

"It was a fortunate discovery, indeed," Shaw added.

"What about Sydney Prince?" Chuck asked. Why did the Ring kill her?

Beckman pursed her lips. She exchanged a look with Shaw, who had advanced from the wall at the question. Chuck couldn't tell why the mention of Prince would have inspired the looks between his two superiors.

"There's another matter we need to discuss first," she said. Uh-oh. That didn't sound good. "You should probably sit."

Frowning, Chuck looked at Casey, but it didn't seem that he knew what it was about either. Chuck complied and took a seat.

The room immediately felt ten degrees hotter—like one of these spot heaters had been switched on—when Shaw resumed talking. "It's about Walker."

They all waited for his reaction; as if they weren't sure he understood who Walker was. No, Chuck corrected, they were probably just testing him. He forced himself not to look at Casey.

"What, uh, what about Sarah? Is she back from her undercover mission?"

Again, Beckman and Shaw exchanged a look. Chuck sneaked a glance at Casey then, but he still didn't seem to know more than him. If anything, his eyes were telling him exactly what he'd been thinking: be careful; sell the part.

"No," Beckman finally said, and took a breath. That was unusual. "Chuck, back in May, while you were training in Prague…" Here they were, she was finally going to tell him the truth. He prepared himself to act surprised. "Agent Walker—Sarah—went rogue." Chuck widened his eyes. "She stole from one of our facilities in Europe—"

"Killing one of our agents in the process," Shaw piped in.

"—and disappeared off the grid. We haven't heard from her since."

Chuck let a few seconds pass. "Hang on a second. What are you talking about? Sarah would never do anything to jeopardize the CIA. You told me she was on a covert operation."

"I know, Chuck. We didn't know what Sarah was doing, and we didn't want to affect your training."

"So you lied to me," he said, his voice as cold as ice. He didn't have to play that part. He had been angry about this for four months now, ever since Casey had told him the truth at Silver Lake.

"Yes, I did."

At least, Chuck couldn't accuse her of shirking what she had done. As always, General Beckman didn't look very apologetic about playing with his life in the name of national security.

Next to her, Shaw appeared to be observing the scene. Chuck had assumed he knew very well about Sarah's situation, but Chuck had avoided talking about her with him. Beckman had asked him not to talk about it. Besides, after what had happened to Shaw's wife, somehow it would have seemed a little insensitive to bring up that subject with him.

There was no other way to play it, so he turned to Casey. "Did you know about this?" he asked him.

"Bartowski—"

"I can't believe this," he said, jumping from his seat. He started prowling. "You had no right to hide it from me," Chuck said, both to the screen and his partner.

"Bartowski, sit down," Casey insisted.

"Information about Walker's situation were of no concern to you, Chuck," Shaw interjected. "General Beckman was dealing with a highly sensitive issue. It's classified information. There was no reason to tell you."

"Regardless, I also took some measures to protect you, Chuck," Beckman carried on. Shaw seemed as surprised as him. Casey barely frowned in question.

"Protect me?" Chuck said harshly. He didn't care. "From what?"

"Watch your tone, Bartowksi," Casey hissed. He was in for an Oscar himself.

"I found it preferable to hide your relationship with Agent Walker," Beckman went on, completely indifferent to the interruptions.

Chuck already knew that. Beckman had first said that Sarah had been supposedly undercover, and he was the Intersect. She preferred to remain cautious, and keep their relationship—whatever it was—low key. Chuck had agreed that keeping his questions about Sarah's whereabouts to Beckman and Casey was the best option, considering his new Intersect status. That was before he'd learned that Sarah was rogue. Then, it became clear that Chuck shouldn't discuss the subject of Sarah with anybody.

"Incidentally, I made the 49B and all incriminating data disappear. Going rogue is a dangerous business, and Agent Walker could have endangered you, and the Intersect."

Chuck stopped his pacing, and stayed completely immobile. That was actually good news. It meant whoever was after Sarah, government contacts or not, didn't know about him. Knowing Beckman, she had made sure Agent Forrest wouldn't talk either. There was no reason to suspect that Chuck would want to help Sarah. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore. I haven't seen Sarah since I left for Prague." Chuck looked briefly at Casey for help. He wasn't sure how much longer he could convincingly keep lying through his teeth.

Fortunately for him, Casey caught his drift. "General, if I may, why is Bartowski being told now?"

"Things have changed," she said, and signaled Shaw to continue.

"Two days ago, the FBI arrested ex-Agent Fowler in Phoenix." Shaw clicked on the remote again. The picture of Amy replaced Manoosh Depark's. "An ex-CIA agent that used to be part of the CIA CAT Squad, between 2003 and 2005." A picture of the CAT Squad joined the party. They certainly looked great, Chuck thought. "Walker was one of them as well."

"Is that, uh, Carina, too?" Chuck said, as he was squinting at the picture, although he already knew the answer.

"It is," Beckman confirmed. "The fourth member was Agent Zondra Rizzo."

Shaw didn't seem to think introductions were important, since he carried on. "Before CIA representatives could retrieve Fowler, the FBI office was attacked by a team of Ring agents. Fowler was terminated."

"What does this have to do with Walker?" Casey asked.

"We're not sure, but Fowler apparently mentioned something about Walker to the FBI agents who arrested her. From what they reported, she seemed to think Walker had set her up." Shaw paused. He took on the same expression he had whenever the Ring was involved, Chuck noticed, and indeed Shaw added, "We think she may be working for the Ring."

Chuck couldn't help but gape. Were they serious? "That's ridiculous. Why would Sarah work for the Ring? She fought Fulcrum with us for two years."

Shaw opened his mouth to answer, but Beckman beat him to it. "We don't know, Chuck." She almost sounded sympathetic. "But in light of today's events, we can't ignore the facts."

"The facts, General?" Chuck was grateful Casey was here to keep the questions going. He had managed to close his mouth shut, but he found speaking difficult at the moment. What exactly was going on?

"The weapon used to murder Sydney Prince—this Spyderco knife," Shaw said, as the image of the bloodied knife appeared on another screen, "belonged to Walker."

This time, Chuck really didn't feel so good. How could it be Sarah's knife? Sarah didn't kill Prince, did she? No, of course not. Chuck clenched his jaw. With the amount of disinformation and cover up this debriefing contained, he wasn't thinking right. He knew that wasn't true. She had told him what happened. Besides, Sarah needed Prince to talk, not to quiet her up. And why would she leave the knife there anyway? That was stupid.

"You think Walker was there?" Casey said.

"What Walker is up to is unclear, but she's apparently connected to the Ring in some capacity. We believe she may have sold them what she stole back in May as well."

Chuck felt the need to sit down. He walked back to his chair, and even took hold of the table with his right hand to accompany his motion. Although watching him—Chuck could feel his eyes on him—Casey kept the flow of conversation going. "What was it?"

"Details are classified, but it was Intersect related," Shaw replied.

"I see," was all the Colonel said.

"Agent Bartowski, are you okay?" He heard Beckman asked.

"Chuck?" This time it was Casey's voice.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," he managed to say, looking up from the ground he hadn't realized he'd been fixated on. "How do you know the knife's Sarah's?"

"The serial numbers corresponded, so we checked for prints. Walker's were on it," Shaw said. "Are you sure you're okay, Chuck?" Shaw said in a funny voice. A bit like he was trying to figure out something. "You look pale."

"Walker was his handler," Casey spoke up, with a hint of annoyance in his tone. "We were a team for two years. It's just a lot to take in."

Beckman nodded. Chuck was pretty sure that she had long accepted his emotional side, even if she never encouraged it. She knew her team. It probably was a bit of a disappointment for her as well, to hear that about Sarah. He wasn't going to feel sorry for her, though. She didn't have to believe it.

Shaw seemed a little more reluctant to let it go. Maybe he was just surprised that Chuck would be affected as much as he was. Chuck couldn't tell at all. He straightened himself, and took a deep breath as silently as possible.

"So what should we do about it?" he heard himself say.

"For now, nothing regarding Agent Walker specifically," Beckman said. "This task force will stay focused on the Ring, as it should be. However, with Walker popping back on our radar this week, it is possible that she will cross your path in the future. We wanted the both of you to be prepared." She paused, and looked at Shaw once again, but this time he didn't have anything to add. "If there's no more questions, I think we'll call it a day."

"Thank you, General," Casey answered, while Chuck said nothing.

"I'll be back in Burbank tomorrow afternoon. Good night," Shaw said, and the conference call disconnected.

"You okay, Bartowski?"

Chuck looked up at Casey and stared for a few seconds. "Yeah, uh." He cleared his throat, "I have to finish my shift. I should go." Chuck flew through the corridor, hurriedly climbed the stairs, and went back to the break room. He got lucky nobody was there. In his addled state of mind, he hadn't checked before entering through the lockers. Getting out had seemed more important.

What. The. Frak?

The ring had managed to set Sarah up. _Again_. The government actually thought that Sarah was working for the people that were trying to kill her.

"Uh, Chuck?"

Chuck whirled around from the locker.

"Hey, hey, it's just me," Morgan said, both of his hands held in the air defensively. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, uh, sorry. I didn't hear you come in," Chuck said.

"Rough day?" his best friend asked. "You were out on installs for most of it."

"Yeah, you know…"

Chuck didn't have to make up a lie because Jeff and Lester barged in, and interrupted them.

"Ah, here you are. I need that big brain of yours, Charles," Lester said. He turned his gaze to Morgan. He tilted his head to the side quickly, deciding that Morgan could help as well. "You too, Grimes. Jeff is dead wrong about something."

"Wow," Morgan said with a chuckle. "That's a surprise."

"Granted," Lester acknowledged. Chuck didn't care for their Buy More shenanigans today. He needed to talk to Sarah. He started moving towards the door, but Lester blocked his way. "Seriously Charles, it's an emergency here."

Chuck sighed loudly.

"Now, if Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal got into a fight, who do you think would win?"

"This is your big question?"

"Bear in mind," Lester added with his hand up in front of him, "that Master Seagal's fighting style choice is aikido like so." Lester started poorly imitating Steven Seagal, "I'm just a cook. I'm a lonely cook."

Chuck rolled his eyes at Lester and looked at Morgan next to him for support.

"Whisk! Phisk!" Lester mouthed, motioning ridiculous "aikido" movements with his arms. "C'mon! C'mon! I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, reaching out to Chuck. "What you got?" Lester was now jumping from foot to foot. Chuck really had more important things to do. "What you got?"

_Bam!_

The flash had come without warning. The roundhouse kick left Chuck's right leg before he could think of trying to stop it. It hit Lester's jaw violently. He went flying to the side, and smashed into a chair by one of the tables. As luck would have it for Lester, the chair broke in two, the back separating at the shock. A mix of metallic fracas and a loud thud resonated in the break room.

"Boom, boom, pow!" Jeff exclaimed, wide-eyed and turning to his poor friend lying on the ground.

Chuck licked his lips, and looked at Morgan, whose eyebrows were so high that they were threatening to join his hair.

"Wow! As cool as that was," Morgan said, and his face took on an enthusiastic expression, "and that was _awesome_ , maybe you should slow down on the Wii a little bit."

Chuck grimaced, but was relieved that Morgan didn't read anything into the incident. He felt a buzz in his pocket.

"Hey, I have a customer to call," he said. "I'll see you later, buddy."

"Work, work, work! You're already the employee of the month, Chuck. Every month..." he heard, behind him as he left the room, reaching out for his pocket protector. He took the red pen and clicked it opened. It was a white noise generator. Only then, he answered the call. As he expected, the screen displayed the word "Montréal." It was Sarah.

"Hello."

"Hey, Chuck," Sarah said. "What's wrong?"

Chuck's mind went blank. How could she tell something was wrong through only one word?

"Chuck? Did something happen with Beckman?"

"Hmm...yeah, sort of," he said on his way to the cage. He'd have some privacy there. "I'm done here in twenty minutes, why don't I come over afterwards to talk about it?"

"You're having dinner at Ellie's tonight, remember?"

"Oh." No, Chuck had actually forgotten. Worst brother ever. "Right." Taking a seat when he arrived in the cage, he sighed loudly.

"Just give me the short version," she said.

Chuck told her about the L.A. Ring cell, Manoosh Depark, and the possible construction of a Ring Intersect.

"Since part of the Cipher is what I'm supposed to have stolen in Rome, it makes sense that they'd been working on it."

"Yeah."

"At least it seems that it's taking them some time. What about Prince? Are there any suspects yet?"

Chuck suddenly felt very cold. He shivered.

"Chuck?"

"Um, no, not exactly."

"Okay. What's going on?"

Chuck swallowed hardly. "The knife that was found there, with the body...it's yours."

On the other end of the line, he heard nothing. Chuck strained his ears as though it would make a difference.

"Sa—hmm," Chuck looked around to make sure no one heard him. "You still there?" he asked.

"I'm here."

Another pause.

"They must have got it in Lisbon, then." It was Sarah's turn to sigh. "I had several weapons with me, if they kept all of them..." She trailed off, but you didn't have to be a Stanford graduate to understand what she was saying: They could set her up again; several times if they saw fit.

"It just means we're getting closer," Chuck said, surprising himself. So far, his thoughts hadn't exactly been lingering on the bright side of things. "They took care of Amy, too."

"They killed her?"

"Yeah." Chuck inwardly kicked himself at his sudden lack of tact. "I'm sorry."

"Was anybody else at the FBI hurt?" she asked.

He hadn't thought of asking about that. "I don't know. I can find out, if you want." She didn't reply. "I'll look up the reports."

"Thanks," she said absently. He should have waited to tell her in person. He was going to go have dinner at his sister's, and Sarah would be stuck at the safe house, all alone with her thoughts.

"It's gonna be okay," Chuck said. "We're getting closer," he repeated.

Again, she didn't say anything to that. "Was there something else?" she asked instead.

"Um, no. That's all…I guess." That was already far from enough. "We'll know more about what we found at the building, tomorrow."

"Okay. Um, well, you should probably be heading home."

Chuck turned toward the clock. It was time to close indeed.

"I don't have to go," Chuck said, standing up, and walked back into the store to the Nerd Herd desk to grab his messenger bag. "I can just post-pone the dinner."

"Chuck..."

"Really, I can—"

"No," she cut him off. "I'm fine," she added with firmness. "You should go and enjoy your dinner. There's nothing we can do tonight about this. It'll be good to spend time with Ellie; take your mind off things."

It would be true, if Chuck thought he could do that. He doubted it. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." Chuck couldn't help but be disappointed about it. Sure, he was glad that he'd see Ellie, he missed his sister, but Sarah was here, and yet they were still separated.

"You could always come afterwards," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

Chuck felt his mood brighten at the possibility. He wouldn't have to wait till tomorrow. And Sarah had been the one that suggested it. So she wanted him there, too.

"Okay, well, I'll be there." Chuck thought about it. "Don't wait up for me, if you're tired, though."

He heard a quiet chuckle. "I'll see you later. Just go, you're already late."

He barely had time to say, "Okay, bye," before she hung up.

Chuck headed for Castle first, to check on what had happened with Amy and the FBI in Phoenix. But despite everything, for once Chuck was still smiling when he slipped into his Herder, and drove home.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Chuck had a small smile on his face when he entered the safe house.

"Hey," Sarah said, before he could announce himself, like he had taken the habit to.

"Hey," he said back.

She smiled at him, but didn't stop her walk across the room, her arms carrying a bundle of clothes, and entered the bedroom. She heard him close the front door, and after a few minutes he followed her inside. He had taken his jacket off, and she could see that he was wearing a nice blue shirt with his pair of jeans.

"What you doin'?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, I did some laundry," she explained, showing him the clothes she was putting back in her travelling bag.

"That bored, huh?"

Sarah chuckled. In spite of everything that Chuck had told her a few hours ago over the phone—despite the worry, the frustration, the anger—Chuck's presence had lightened her mood instantly.

After they had bought her something to eat and Chuck had dropped her off earlier on his way back to the Buy More and Castle, Sarah had taken a long shower, to clean off her run through the "filthy tunnels from hell," or so Chuck had called them. She'd shampooed thrice, just to be sure. Then, she had reread the file Casey had left there, and called Chuck. After the phone call, she had needed to occupy herself as she'd worked through the different news. She had meticulously eaten her dinner first, and then laundry had seemed like a good option amongst the limited ones she had.

She had rapidly gotten bored out of her mind, alternatively checking on her laundry and rereading the same file over and over. It even led her to play a game that Chuck had downloaded on her phone, saying that it had just come out, and that she _had to_ check it out. Sarah used to avoid playing video games; otherwise, she'd have found herself surrounded by nerds for a night of gaming before she realized it. But she figured that risk wasn't high these days. And she had to admit: this _Angry Birds_ game was pretty addictive.

Chuck plopped down heavily at the edge of the bed, facing her. He seemed to be doing that a lot. And then he sighed, before he remembered something, for he said, "Oh, uh, I checked the reports on the shootout at the Phoenix FBI office. Nobody was badly hurt on their side. Fulton's all right."

Sarah nodded at him in relief. She had long debated on whether she should have brought people she knew into this—aware of it or not. Her actions had put Mike Fulton's life in danger. His crime had been to be a great guy. Sometimes life really sucked.

"Thanks for checking," she said, grateful. "How was dinner?" she asked. Sarah didn't want to think about the Ring tonight.

"Good," Chuck said, without conviction. He rolled his neck from side to side and it cracked loudly.

"Good," Sarah mimicked in the same tone, putting the last remnant of her clean clothes in her bag.

Chuck snerked, and watched Sarah move to the bed. She slid on her knees behind him, put her hands on his shoulders, and started massaging.

"Ellie worries," he said, but didn't elaborate.

"About what?"

"You know…" he said cryptically. "She worries, that's all."

Sarah felt her eyebrows knit together. "There must be a reason."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Her hands stopped with her surprise. He had said it as though it was no big deal, but all Sarah could think was that Chuck not wanting to talk couldn't be good. "Why not?"

"Because," he said sharply, and paused, maybe realizing his tone.

Sarah ran a hand through his hair then, and let it linger enough to generate a long exhalation from Chuck.

"It's just…" he started again. "Complaining about dinner with my sister, when you can't even leave this place without being hunted by both the Ring and the government, it doesn't feel right. You've got bigger issues than what my sister thinks about me."

Chuck refusing to talk was what didn't feel right.

Sarah leaned against him, hugging him from behind. "You can complain about dinner," she said, with as much casualness as possible. "I don't mind."

He brought his hands up to squeeze her forearms on his chest, and dipped his head slightly backwards against her. She stayed there, holding him and waiting for him to talk, but it lasted a lot longer than she expected. He really didn't want to talk about it.

Then, he twisted his neck to brush his lips against her cheek. "Hey, now that Casey knows," he said, and she could hear some amusement in his voice, "I can talk to him about my lady feelings."

Sarah laughed and she shoved him gently forward. He turned to smile at her. "If you'd rather tell Casey than me, then something is seriously wrong," she said, moving to sit next to him, one foot folded beneath her. "What's this really about?"

Chuck licked his lips and looked at the carpet in front of them. "If I tell you, and then you feel guilty, you'll…" he trailed off, still looking away.

"What?" she prompted. He didn't reply, and when he turned his gaze on her she could see he didn't want to say it. "I'll leave?"

His face contorted slightly with a grimace. "I'm not saying you _want_ to leave."

"Chuck…" she said. "I meant what I said this morning. Even if I have to leave this place, I'm not leaving you." He reached out to take her hand at her words. "But you can't do this."

He stilled. "Do what?"

Since their meet on the plane, Chuck had hidden everything that had been going on with Ellie from her. Maybe it was her fault, and she simply hadn't wanted to see it. Maybe she hadn't asked enough about it. But now that she was here, evidence that something was wrong was piling up. First, was the Stephanie story, then the phone call Chuck and Ellie had exchanged earlier in the van, and now, he was _not_ talking about dinner with his sister, like it was as fun as it was painful for him. She wouldn't let that happen. Their situation was screwed up enough as it was.

"You said you wanted us to fight; to do this together, right?"

"I did," he said.

"And obviously, this..." Sarah lifted her free hand in the air and moved it in a circular motion, designating simultaneously everything and nothing. "Um, this situation, this _mess_. It's been affecting the both of us. Not just me."

"So?"

"So if I'm to stay—"

"You just said you weren't leaving," Chuck cut her off.

"I'm not," Sarah said firmly. "But you can't keep all your burdens to yourself to protect me." He didn't look convinced at all. "How is this different from me leaving to protect you?"

"It's different because…" he said, "because we're together."

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "But at what cost? I thought you were tired of hiding things from Ellie and Morgan. And now you want to keep things separated from me too?"

He stared at her then, until a small lopsided smile appeared on his face, and he made a show of letting himself fall back on the mattress. She laughed again.

"You're right," Chuck said simply, and marked a pause. Sarah waited. "I'm pretty sure Ellie thinks," he stopped, and she gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm in a funk worse than the five year long my-best-friend-got-me-expelled-from-college-before-sleeping-with-my-girlfriend funk I was in after Stanford."

"I'm sorry."

"I just wish I could tell her that her brother isn't a loser," he said. His voice was quiet; resigned.

"Ellie would never think that."

"Because she's my sister, she's wired to think so, but…I wish I could prove it to her, you know."

Maybe it was time. "Then…tell her. Tell her the truth."

"I can't. It's too dangerous," Chuck replied automatically. "Wait," he said craning his neck, "you'd be okay with it? If I told her?"

"It's not me that might have a problem with it. You should probably talk to Casey about it, first. But Devon already knows you're a spy, and if it means you'll stop worrying so much, then yeah, maybe you should tell her." She thought about it for a second. "About me, too." She saw his smile over that last part, and Sarah brought her free hand up to stroke his forehead. "I mean, you're starting to get frown lines," she teased.

Chuck laughed and caught her wrist. He intertwined their fingers, resting on his chest, and kept staring at the ceiling, obviously reflecting on it. Sarah watched the wheels running in his head. "Maybe I need to think about it, then," he said eventually. "What about Morgan?"

Sarah chewed the inside of her cheeks. Morgan Grimes and discretion didn't exactly go together. But he was Chuck's best friend. He had been for a long time. "That's for you to decide."

He watched her, as if he wasn't sure she was really telling him the words, before glancing back to the ceiling. Sarah bent forward to kiss his cheek, and buried her head in his shoulder as she rolled on her side against him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her. As always, he smelled _good_. She sighed contentedly at the thought.

"Are you okay? You're always freezing," he said rubbing her forearm.

"It's just the fatigue," she told him in a dismissive tone.

"That's very reassuring," he deadpanned.

"It's nothing a few days of sleep can't fix."

"Maybe I should just let you rest."

"Why?" she asked, and propped herself up on her elbow. "Were you planning on _not_ letting me rest?" She saw the blush take over his face on the spot. He gaped at her; she giggled. "I'm fine, really. Is that why you turned the place into a sauna, by the way?"

"No," he said, after taking a deep breath. "I just wanted to get you into your old Orange Orange tank top again."

"Did you, now?" She couldn't help but grin. She knew he worried about her being cold all the time, and yet, he was complimenting her—he loved that tank top, his reactions to it today had more than illustrated that fact—while joking.

"Nostalgia, I guess," he said with a shrug, feigning indifference, before the grin overtook his own face.

Sarah dived in for a kiss then, which he happily reciprocated.

"I'd rather you get me out of it," she said against his mouth, and she felt his smile before he kissed her again.

It didn't take her long to unfasten his shirt. Sarah ran her hands against his undershirt to make the blue shirt slip from his shoulders. Chuck sat up, and Sarah accompanied his movement by straddling him. As soon as his arms where free from the shirt, he wrapped them both protectively around her.

Sarah pecked his lips and tucked at the hem of his undershirt. Instead of slackening, like she expected, his hold got tighter, as if afraid to let go—afraid that it wouldn't happen; afraid that they'd get interrupted once again. She could certainly relate.

So for once, Sarah decided to do what they hadn't been able to since last May; what they never allowed themselves to do. She let go of his t-shirt, and let her fingers roam against his bare back. Closing the distance, she tilted her head and her lips grazed Chuck's slightly, teasingly, as she simply grinned at him. She had decided: They had all the time in the world.

Chuck eyes were bright, but still hesitant. She kissed him slowly, leisurely, until she felt his grip around her loosen. Unlike most of their kisses, this one wasn't fueled by desperation. The eagerness was still there—oh, was it there—and she could feel it building up between them. But the feeling of urgency didn't come from the situation they were in. There weren't any bombs ready to explode, or rules to hide from, or government and criminal organizations out to get them. It was only Chuck and Sarah, craving what had been delayed for so long. And when she grabbed his undershirt again, it didn't take him long to help her get him out of it.

Sarah's arms came to rest around his neck after she discarded the piece of clothing somewhere in the room, and she locked gazes with Chuck. Her eyes were met with so much emotion that she felt the need to look away. His smile had been way too infectious, however; she couldn't look away for long. It was _that_ smile; and she loved it.

Chuck moved in for another kiss. To her dismay, he only gave her a peck on the mouth. She couldn't complain, though, since he started peppering kisses along her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. His left arm rested securely along her spine, hand settling on the nape of her neck and fingers brushing her hair. She arched against his ministrations, meshing with his warm touch and the hot feel of his breath against her skin.

He eventually—Sarah didn't have a clear grasp of time at the moment—halted right above her chest, stopped by her top. She heard him mumble, "I love you," before sucking on the spot he seemed to have selected.

When he took his time, she let her hands wander up against his torso, until they reached both sides of his face, to bring him back up to her lips.

What she hadn't known before, and that she'd been progressively—and gleefully—realizing, was that, he had always kept some part of himself restrained. Even in Barstow, the highlight of their make out history, Chuck hadn't kissed her as senseless as he was kissing her right now.

He leaned back at some point, and waited long enough for Sarah to open her eyes again. His were still bright, brighter even, with lust, but the hint of hesitation was now replaced by something else. That's when she noticed that his right palm was now flattened right on that same spot above her chest.

Her heart.

Sarah's breathing rasped at the realization. Chuck must have heard it, because he grinned at her, his eyes dancing with amusement, before he let his hand slide up to her nape, and he kissed her again.

Until finally, it was his turn to discard her tank top and let it join his shirt.


	10. The Ring HQ

_**December 4, 2009** _

The sun hadn't risen yet, and the room was still dark, when Sarah started drifting out of sleep.

It took her a few seconds to remember where she was, until Chuck's arm around her waist pulled her closer to his chest. Flashing back to the previous morning when he had done the same thing, she felt a brief feeling of familiarity at the gesture. She didn't have time to think more of it, because Chuck dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, interrupting her thoughts.

Sarah turned around in his arms, still half-asleep, and buried her head in the crook of his neck, intent on prolonging the contented state she was in before reality would set in on them again. Both of his arms wrapped around her when she did.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

After a pause, he spoke again. "Are you okay? Are you cold?" he asked, and didn't wait for her answer to readjust the covers, before rubbing her back.

"I'm good," she said against his skin.

He didn't say anything else, and Sarah wasn't sure if he fell back asleep like she did. When she began waking up again, his right hand was drawing a pattern only he knew on the scar on her flank. She sighed happily at the sensation, and didn't move.

"When do you have to go?" she said.

His hand froze for a second. "Already want to get rid of me, huh?"

Her hold on him immediately got tighter, but she didn't respond. "Don't you need to go to the Buy More?" she said instead.

Chuck inhaled heavily, and stretched a little, brushing his hands up and down her bare back again, and letting his thumbs delightfully graze her sides in the process. "I'm sure Casey will cover for me," he said.

"Is that some kind of habit?" she teased, while nuzzling his shoulder.

"Yeah, you know, guy code and all," he said.

Sarah nipped his neck then. "Is that so?" she said, and pulled back to look at him.

He grinned at her. "Nope, it's just you." His expression changed to something slightly more serious then, as he seemed to have thought of something. "It's always been you," he said. Maybe realizing his change of tone, he smiled again and made his eyebrows dance.

"Good," she answered, chuckling at his antics, and brought her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. "Because Chuck," she added and stopped to give him a peck on the lips. He tilted his head forward to make it last longer; it made her smile. "I fell for you a long, long time ago," she finished.

Sarah wasn't sure where this sudden courage came from. She wasn't sure she still had the ability to really think either. It seemed that Chuck's touch made her feel more lightheaded by the second. She had flown off so much since last night, cloud nine was now a vague point far below the place her head was at.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm. After you fixed my phone and before you started defusing bombs with computer viruses."

At her words, so much light flickered through his eyes that they seemed to burn with flames. The shy smile that had been etched on his face since her first admission blossomed into a full grin.

"Sarah Walker," he uttered, and she heard a warning tease in his voice. Instead, however, he simply added, "I love you." He dived in then, to capture her mouth, and make her roll onto her back.

There wasn't any teasing in the exhilarating kiss he gave her either. It was complete; complete with love, and affection, and promises. Sarah could see lots of kisses like this one in her future, and it was now her body that felt on fire.

When Chuck broke the kiss, she reluctantly opened her eyes to see him hovering over her. They were both panting for breath, and he gave her that beaming smile again. The one he had given her the night before, and that she loved so much. The same one he had had in Barstow months ago, she remembered. The one that said just how idiotically happy he was to be there, with her, in that moment.

It didn't matter that reality would set in in a few hours; because just like him in that moment, Sarah was smiling like the fool she had never known she was. She was just happy to be there with him. So happy, she felt the need to tell him.

"I love you too, Chuck."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Can I borrow your toothpaste?" Chuck said, coming back into the bathroom.

Sarah would have pointed out that it was her soap they had just used in the shower, so she would likely share her toothpaste as well, but she was too busy brushing her teeth. She handed him the tube, before spitting.

Seeing Chuck's look at the label, she said, "Sorry, no peppermint. I'm living on the edge these days," before resuming her brushing.

She couldn't contain the giggle very long at the expression he gave her. Rendering Chuck speechless with words always brought some sort of satisfaction. The way his eyes shone brighter, and his smile stretched almost hesitatingly at first, before spreading completely; she loved it.

Once done, Sarah wiped her mouth with a towel, before extending it to him. "Casey's not going to like it," she said.

Chuck's eyes darted to the shower. "How would he know?"

"Not that." She laughed. "That," she said, motioning at his face.

"Spearmint?"

"Your smile."

"Oh." Chuck put away the towel. "Well," he stretched out the word as he sauntered to her, and put both of his hands on her hips, thumbs drawing circles under her shirt, probably without even realizing it. She approved. "What else am I supposed to do?"

Sarah grinned back, before grabbing his grey tie and bringing him down to her. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed doing that. Nostalgia had flowed over her earlier, when she'd seen him in his Nerd Herd uniform for the first time in months. The feeling didn't last, however, because even if their situation was far from ideal, at least there wasn't any cover involved this time around.

"Nothing," she said, when they broke the kiss. "I'm just warning you. He already sounded a little grumpy on the phone."

Casey had woken them up, after they had fallen back to sleep. Sarah had been the one answering Chuck's phone when she'd seen it was Casey, but he hadn't let her say a word. "I'm bringing lunch in an hour. Be decent, if you want to live," he'd said.

"Oh, well. It's not like it'll be that much different from before," Chuck said, letting go of her.

Sarah laughed on her way into the living room, where she had left her travelling bag on the table, and retrieved her knives. Chuck joined her just as she was finishing placing them.

"Are you gonna tell me where you keep these?" he asked.

"Why would I do that?" she said, fastening up her bag, and throwing it on the couch.

"What if I cut you accidentally?"

She gave him a look.

"Or myself? What if I cut myself?"

"You won't cut yourself," she said.

He squinted at her. "How can you be sure?"

"I guess you'll just have to figure it out yourself," she said with a shrug. She grinned at him.

He gaped at her, but the moment ended as soon as it started. In a blink, he squeezed his arms around her waist and back, and pulled her to him and against the table in a swinging motion. The laugh, escaping her after her surprise had dissipated, died on her lips when he burrowed his head into her neck, his mouth at work.

"I might just do that," he said.

Sarah felt his hands sliding under her t-shirt and padding at the waistband of her jeans. She circled her arms around his neck and tugged him closer, taking hold of him to hop up on the table. He seemed happy to help her out, and let one of his hands tantalizingly slither down her leg, and—

"Ah-ah," he said, and moved back to show her his hand. He had taken out the knife she'd kept in her ankle holster.

She'd make him pay for that—obviously—but that could wait. For now, she just wanted him to resume what he'd started. Her eyes must have betrayed her thoughts for he laughed and leaned in to kiss her, full on the lips this time.

Chuck jerked back and helped her down from the table when they heard a tap on the door. Casey came in, and although there were two good feet between them, he wasn't fooled. He glared at them.

"What?" Sarah said. "We're decent."

Chuck gave her an incredulous look; she shrugged. Casey hadn't seen anything, after all.

"Hey, Casey," Chuck managed to say in a surprisingly normal voice. The clearing of his throat sold him out, though. "Need a hand?"

"This is the last time I'm doing your shopping, Bartowski." Casey shoved two pizzas at Chuck's chest when he approached.

"Oof!"

"I'm not your errand boy," he added. "Or yours, Walker." He extended her the briefcase he had in his other hand.

"Thanks," she said, with a grateful smile.

Casey tilted is head tersely and joined Chuck at the table to eat. Her boyfriend was checking out the pizzas. Sarah opened the briefcase, and pulled out a laptop and a pile of files.

"So, what now?" Casey asked, with a bite of pizza stuffed in one cheek.

"I don't know. I'll read these. Maybe I'll find something."

Chuck, who already had demolished a slice, rose to grab a napkin. "We should start a wall." Casey exchanged a questioning look with Sarah. Chuck must have seen it, when he stopped picking from a new slice, for he said, "You know, with everything that's happened?" He was met with silence again. "I'll show you. Can I help myself in the office?"

Casey grimaced a "Hell, no" expression, before grunting. "Sure."

Chuck stood up. "Awesome." On his way, he extended her the slice of pizza on his napkin.

"Thanks," she said, although she wasn't sure why he was serving her. Sarah looked at the piece of pizza with a frown. He'd picked out all the olives. She turned to look at him again—she wasn't sure to do what—but he was already departing the room.

"But don't you mess with my things!" Casey added. Casey and her both ate in silence until he spoke again. "He told you about the knife?"

"Yes."

"They're getting antsy."

Was Casey trying to reassure her?

"Okay," Chuck said, resurfacing, and he put down a bunch of office supplies on the table. "Let's start at the beginning." He grabbed a piece of paper, a roll of tape, and a marker, before walking to the wall in front of them. Casey growled the entire time Chuck took to unhook the Reagan frame displayed in the center of the wall. "First attack was in Lisbon." He taped the piece of paper on the left, and wrote: LISBON - 05/24/09. "How many guys did you see there?"

"Three."

"Including Sullivan?"

"Yeah."

"What were you doing in Lisbon, anyway?" Casey asked.

Chuck turned to her, a tad wide-eyed. Casey hadn't asked what she was doing there the first time she had told him about Lisbon, seeing as they had had plenty of other events to discuss. No such luck, this time.

"Bryce!" Chuck said, high-pitched.

"Uh?"

"Bryce's ashes. You were spreading Bryce's ashes, right?" Chuck said.

"Walker?" Casey said. His tone conveyed what he really meant: What's with him, now?

Sarah hesitated for a second, but it didn't matter anymore. "We were going to run."

Casey didn't say anything. He was obviously taken aback, but for once, he kept quiet. She wasn't sure if she liked it.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Okay, so three guys," he said. He tapped the end of his marker against what he had written. "We might find something retracing Sullivan's steps before this."

Sarah decided to join in. She looked through the folders Casey had brought, and went to tape Gruber's picture on the wall. "August. Rafe Gruber. I have his file, here. You already studied it, though, right?"

"Yeah, it's on the Chicago flash drive." Chuck added papers and kept writing. "September: Prince recruited Amy."

"She almost got to me in October."

"Your scar?"

"Yes. Uh, that was in North Dakota."

Casey let out an amused grunt at that, coming back from the fridge. He handed them water bottles. "I'll bring the printer from the office here."

Sarah kept taping pictures with Chuck, and wrote down other information, from the files, while Casey settled on a laptop to start some research, once he came back with the printer.

Chuck's phone eventually interrupted them. He looked at the screen. "It's Shaw."

"Guess he's back," Casey said. He handed him the brochure from the pizza box. "I left your watch at Piggy's."

Chuck nodded and checked out the address while walking back to the office to take the call. "Hello. Yeah, he's with me..."

Sarah went back to the wall with a new slice of food; just like Chuck seemed to be, she was starving.

After a moment of silence, Casey spoke, "So, you're serious about this?"

"About what?" She raised her eyebrows at him in question. "Finding out who's trying to kill me?"

"You were quitting."

Oh, that's what he meant. She shrugged.

"So that's it? You were throwing away your life for Bartowski?"

Unlike what his words might suggest, Casey's tone wasn't accusing. He seemed to be simply making sure.

"I was making a life," she corrected. "It doesn't matter now, anyway."

"Why?" he asked. "You can still do it."

Sarah crossed her arms, bringing her attention back to the wall. "We changed our minds."

"Good. 'Cause running now would be stupid."

"Thanks," she said, annoyed now.

Casey walked up beside her, keeping his gaze in front of them. "I know what it means to make a choice like that. I don't mean to stop you." He paused, and Sarah realized that it was probably the closest "I'm happy for the two of you" statement she'd get from him. "But you know running wouldn't have been the way."

"If I didn't then, I sure do now." She was tired of running.

"Heh," Casey conceded. "It's cleverer this way, that's all," he carried on. "Once you're cleared, you'll both be able to choose whatever you want."

"They won't let him go."

"Fraternization between agents has happened before. And even so, wouldn't it be worth the try if that's what you both want?"

Sarah turned to look at his profile. He had a point; going on the run had been a hasty decision. Chuck was already practically an agent. Things were different.

Casey didn't give her time to answer, though. "Either way, this is the priority for now."

They exchanged one of the little nods only they understood, before focusing back on the task at hand. The answers might be right in front of them. Sarah needed to figure this out.

"We have a new mission," Chuck said, when he came back to the room. "Shaw found the Ring headquarters."

––––o–––––o––––

 

"You okay?" Shaw asked.

"Yeah, uh, I'm fine," Chuck said, and readjusted his hold on his tranq gun.

Shaw turned his gaze from the door, left ajar, to him. "You seem a little tired," he said, "and I know we haven't had time to talk about yesterday's debriefing."

Chuck hoped that he and Shaw wouldn't have to wait for the Ring Director to come back to his office—hiding in the private bathroom—for too long. He didn't want to have to talk about Sarah, and the suspicions that she was Ring—especially with Shaw, considering how obsessed the man was with bringing them down. "Well, the Director should tell us more about this Intersect they're building. That's why we're here, right?"

"Yes," Shaw said, still fixated on Chuck. "What about Walker? Is this going to be a problem?"

He didn't want to talk about Sarah. "What do you mean?"

"I've have to deal with a lot of agents being turned by the Ring before, and—"

"I don't think she's Ring," Chuck replied.

"The evidence says differently," Shaw said, somewhat colder.

"I know, but..."

"Chuck, you said yourself it's been what? Six months since you last saw Walker, right?"

Chuck focused on not letting any signs slip, like he'd been taught. He kept both his gaze and his voice steady. "Yes."

"I understand that you want to believe that your ex-handler," Shaw paused briefly for some reason, "isn't a traitor, but you never know people in the kind of work we do," he said, and returned his attention to the inside of the office. "And people change, you've seen it. It can be for multiple motives: opportunity, money, fun…it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it happens." Shaw stopped shortly. "So until we learn otherwise, Walker needs to be considered a threat."

The dim bathroom felt more stifling with every passing moment, and Chuck cursed the several layers of clothes he was wearing. He could feel himself sweat under his janitor jumpsuit.

"You're almost a spy now, Chuck," Shaw went on, watching him once again. "And we aren't playing around here. The Ring needs to be stopped. So, I need to know: Is this going to be a problem?"

"No," Chuck said, this time more firmly. Lies were easier when they were in some way true. "I'll do what I have to do."

Shaw nodded. "Good."

The sound from the office doors opening finally reverberated. Chuck straightened himself and waited for Shaw to go inside to follow him. They heard Casey, who had been hiding in a closet closer to the door, first.

"Hands up," Casey said. "One word and you're dead."

Shaw stepped into the room. "Now this is brazen," Chuck heard the Director say as he followed Shaw inside.

"That—that was four words," Chuck said, taking in the scene.

Casey was standing next to the door in case someone entered. A bolt-gun was resting on his back over his grey jumpsuit. It made for an odd sight. He had the Director at gun point, in the middle of the room in front of his desk. The Director's hands weren't up like Casey had ordered; they were both casually in his pockets.

The Director ignored Chuck, and turned to Shaw, all smiles. "Hello, Daniel," he said. "At last, we meet."

Shaw didn't reply. Chuck couldn't make out the bleak expression on his superior's face as he walked to the private elevator on the other side of the room. Chuck had to hack the system and open the elevator's hatch for their escape.

"Kidnapping me in my own office—impressive," the Director went on. "But there's absolutely no chance you'll get the Cipher."

"The Cipher?" Chuck heard Casey ask while he pulled out his PDA and got to work.

"The Intersect's core processor," Shaw said. "It's here?"

"Oh come on, don't play dumb," the Director said. He still sounded completely imperturbable. "We've been building our own Intersect for six months, you know that."

"So where is it?" Casey asked.

"You won't get five feet from this door. My security will be on you in seconds."

"We did just fine coming here," Casey replied.

Chuck took a step out of the elevator. "Call your assistant," he said to the Director.

"What?"

"You know, your secretary, whoever you have. Call him or her, and have them bring the Cipher to you, here." Chuck looked around the room and found what he needed, before addressing his partners. "We can have him play mini golf here," he said, walking to the emplacement in question in the middle of the office. "That way, we can hide and monitor him and the assistant won't see us." He lifted his arm in the door's direction. "One of us can even hide behind the door from that angle."

"That'll work," Casey said.

"You heard him," Shaw told the director. "Make the call."

When the Director didn't move, Casey stepped forward. He grabbed the Director by the shoulder roughly, and pushed him down onto one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "Sit," he ordered. "And put it on speaker phone. You try to warn anybody, and you're—"

"Please, I know the drill," the Director said, looking up from his seat. He took the time to roll his shoulders, however, which was the first sign of annoyance on his part.

Shaw moved to take over Casey's position by the door, and Chuck went back to opening the hatch in the elevator during the call. He finished, and joined them back in the room, as the Director hung up.

"So, Daniel," the Director said. "Still upset about your wife?"

"Shut up," Shaw replied.

"You should really learn to get over that."

"You should really learn to do as you're told when a gun's pointed at you," Casey said.

The Director chuckled, which didn't last because Casey grabbed him again to move him to the center of the room. Chuck installed the mini golf playground, before taking his tranq gun in hand once more.

"What are you? Tranq Bond?" the Director told him, obviously amused.

"Quiet," Shaw said. "I'll take the door. Casey, you take the bathroom and shoot him if he tries anything. Chuck—"

"Closet, got it."

When the assistant arrived with the Cipher in hand, everything was going according to plan until the woman must have done something suspicious, because Chuck saw Casey move out of the bathroom.

"Hi, hands where we can see them," Casey said, pointing his gun at her. "Sit." He motioned to the two chairs in front of the desk. "The both of you."

Chuck stepped inside. He saw Shaw keep the door slightly open and he occasionally peered outside to check the hallway. Chuck walked next to him, on the opposite side of the entrance.

"What are we gonna do with her now?" Chuck asked.

"Well, personally I'd shoot her," the Director said. Shaw closed back the door. "Decisions, deci—"

"Okay."

Chuck jumped at the sound of a gunshot suddenly ringing in his ears. The scene inexplicably slowed down to slow motion. The ambient noise disappeared, and only the echo of Shaw's firearm going off resided.

The assistant's head lolled downwards, and she collapsed from the chair to the ground lifelessly. Her eyes were wide open, but the bullet hole in her forehead and the blood covering her face didn't lie. Shaw _had_ just shot her.

Chuck felt the sickening feeling of realization come over him. The knot in his stomach only grew as his eyes left the dead woman to look at the man beside her, only to see confirmation of what had happened.

The Director had blanched considerably. Shock was written all over his face. He was watching Shaw, and he seemed to be asking a question Chuck couldn't discern. Was the man wondering if he was next? If what just happened, had really happened? Was he pleading for his life?

Chuck twisted his neck to look at Shaw. The expression on his superior's face wasn't any more expressive than usual, except for his eyes, which were burning with a rage so intense, it made Chuck swallow.

It was no use. His mouth and throat were completely dry.

"What the—" Casey started to say, only to be cut off by two things happening at once: Shaw smirked, of all things, and the Director's hand lifted toward the inside of his jacket. It never completed its journey, because a second bullet landed, perfectly in the middle of the Director's forehead. He fell to the floor with a chilling thud.

The expression on the Director's face, utterly devoid of life, was now another one engraved in Chuck's brain under "Death". He blinked to try and make it go away, but that didn't work.

"She tipped security," Shaw said, moving forward. His voice seemed entirely normal. His demeanor was as casual as ever. He kneeled down, and swiftly took the Cipher from the assistant's hand, before turning back. "They're coming," he said, twitching his head toward the door, "let's go," and he jogged to the elevator.

Chuck didn't move. He wasn't sure he could. He focused on breathing instead, and minimizing the overheating feeling that was piercing through him.

Shaw had just executed two people right in front of him.

"Chuck, come on," Casey said, and placed a hand on his back, pushing him forward. Chuck hadn't noticed Casey coming up behind him, but his partner reached him through the horrific daze.

Casey made it to the elevator first, and Chuck was still a few feet away from it, when the office doors burst open. Shaw pointed his gun in his direction, and for a terrifying instant, the thought that Shaw was going to shoot him right there ran through Chuck's mind.

"Duck!" Shaw said.

Chuck dived. He rolled inside the elevator as he landed, and hit the wall. Shaw, quickly joined by Casey, opened fire—killing three guards on the spot, Chuck saw when he looked back.

They flattened against the sides waiting for the elevator's doors to finally close, and protect them from any more gunshots.

Chuck could breathe again, which was an odd feeling when stuck in an elevator. He felt slightly fed up with them at the moment, and promised himself to take the stairs more often. He didn't get up right away—his body ached—but crawled to sit against the wall.

"What the hell was that?" Casey said.

"There was no time for prisoners," Shaw said. "We couldn't just let him go. Who knows when we'd have found him again?"

"You didn't have to kill the assistant," Chuck heard himself say.

"The less we have witnesses, the better," Shaw replied. "She was no innocent. Assistant or not, she was Ring."

Casey grunted. "Chuck, get up. You're going first."

"W-what? Where?" he asked, looking up at his partner.

Casey jerked his head up toward the hatch, and offered him a hand. Chuck swiped his palm against his thigh, before Casey pulled him to his feet.

"I'm not taking the jumpsuit off you, Bartowski. Move it."

Chuck frowned and realized Casey and Shaw had already disposed of their jumpsuits. He took his off quickly, and felt the temperature pleasantly decrease around him.

"Take this," Casey told him, and handed him the bolt-gun. "It's in the Intersect, you can flash on it."

Chuck put it on his back over his harness, somewhat clumsily as he was trying to get a hold of his shaky hands.

"You got your card?" Shaw asked him, waving his own magnetic card at him. They'd stolen them from the janitors they had impersonated to sneak inside the tower. Chuck dug his card out of his pocket, nodding. Shaw explained where he should go next; Casey and Shaw would take care of the security. "You're good?"

Chuck didn't have time to answer. The jolt of the elevator coming to a halt interrupted them. He glanced one last time at Casey, who was checking his weapons, before swiping his clammy hands against his clothes again, and pulling himself up through the hatch.

He didn't take the time to think. He got out as soon as he could. Casey was already on his tail when he left the maintenance room where the hatch had led them to, and went left on Shaw's directions.

_Take left. Then, the second door on your right._

Chuck ran—his feet landing heavier on the floor with every step, and hurting his knees, but never propelling him fast enough.

He all but skidded when he got to the door, and used the magnetic card to open it. His hands unexpectedly weren't shaking anymore; the door opened on the first try.

Gunshots rang out in the distance. Chuck looked back briefly; Casey was running towards him. He sprinted again.

_After this, just go straight until the end of the hallway, and take the stairs._

Finally reaching the roof entrance, Chuck took the stairs two by two, and thrust his left arm forward to press the door open, even as his right hand worked the magnetic card. His body came crashing into the door, shoulder first, making him howl in pain. Chuck wondered for a fraction of second if the door would stay closed.

It cracked open violently, pivoting so fast that fresh air rushed against Chuck's skin as he staggered forward to regain balance. The metallic sound of the door hitting the wall made him wince, but he didn't stop.

Chuck reached out behind his back for the bolt gun, and made sure the door wouldn't close, before walking to the edge of the roof. He took a deep breath before looking down and checking that he was on the right side of the building—his vertigo wasn't helping in cases like this one.

He heard an explosion coming from inside and echoing through the open door, before Casey barged out onto the roof. Chuck fired the bolt gun three times at the opposite ledge of the building, letting enough distance between the hooks to make sure they'd hold.

He ran to join Casey at the hooks, and attached his cord. "Where's Shaw?"

"He's coming," Casey answered. "You ready?"

Stepping back, and letting the cord loose through his harness as he went, Chuck strode over to the small wall, and inhaled deeply once again.

Shaw chose that moment to walk out of the building. His sudden arrival on the roof was like a bomb going off, and Chuck's left foot slipped in surprise. He only just managed to grab the cord tight, feeling the burn. Chuck kept himself from falling, while Shaw turned back and almost emptied his magazine. The man slammed the door closed. He had apparently kept a last bullet for the lock, because he fired at it and threw away his magazine, before reloading.

"Go!" Shaw said.

Chuck and Casey didn't wait. They rappelled down the building immediately.

"I still say we should have used another zip line," Chuck said, between two jumps.

"We've been over this."

"Yeah, but…" His two feet landed on the lower roof of the adjacent building. "It would have been cooler." Chuck looked up, and saw Shaw pausing at the top. The other man pitched a flash bang, before starting his descent.

Chuck was battling with his harness to disentangle himself, when Casey's hand gripped and cut it with a huge knife in one scary movement.

"I guess that will do it," Chuck said, but Casey was already running toward the emergency stairwell, at the far end of the new roof. Chuck followed.

Halfway through, shouts from the guards made them look over their shoulders. Shaw was just working himself out of his cord. Casey drew his gun, and took cover behind a ventilation exit.

"Keep going," Casey said, and began shooting.

Chuck did as he was told at first, but he took the time to check where Casey and Shaw were before going down the stairs. Casey was following; Shaw had taken cover in Casey's place. Every new step of the spiral stairs made him feel dizzier, and Chuck couldn't wait to allow air into his lungs again.

When he reached the bottom, Chuck doubled over with his hands on his knees for a too short instant. He somehow found the will to straighten himself and start running again, likely because insanity was setting in in his oxygen-deprived state. He was stopped abruptly by Casey, who had caught up to him and grabbed a handful of his shirt, yanking him left. Chuck thought he might have heard the fabric rip, but he couldn't be sure—his hearing was overpowered by the sound of his heart beating way too loudly.

"This way."

They didn't have to practice the next part. Casey got in the driver seat, even as Chuck slid the side door of the van open, and jumped in.

Assessing the situation after putting the van into gear, Casey turned to him. "Take the rifle, and cover Shaw," he said.

As his mind was telling him how much he hated firearms, Chuck's body reacted to the weapon perfectly, letting the training he had put himself through take over. Sarah would probably hate what he was doing.

"You don't have to shoot at them," Casey said. "Just make them think you are."

Shaw was descending the stairs, when two guards appeared on top of the roof. Chuck fired wide shots, to be sure he didn't hit anyone, and because the van was moving as they were closing in on Shaw.

One of the guards didn't take cover like the others. Instead, he bent over the ledge and opened fire on Shaw, fortunately missing. The strident, metallic sounds of the bullets colliding with the stairwell only pressed Chuck further. He didn't have any choice left.

Chuck cursed inwardly, but called up the flash.

He shot the guard.

The man collapsed backwards at the brutal impact of the bullet against his shoulder. He didn't fall over the ledge. Chuck let out a sigh of relief.

Shaw had reached the bottom of the stairs, and he jumped into the van alongside Chuck, closing the doors behind him. Casey didn't waste any time to crush the accelerator and drive away. The mission hadn't turned out like the simple "sneak-in-grab-and-sneak-out" it was supposed to be.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"You weren't supposed to eliminate the Director, Shaw. This wasn't a red op," Beckman said over the monitor in Castle.

"I did what I had to do to get my team out," Shaw replied.

Beckman pursed her lips, looking askance. Clearly, Shaw wasn't sorry about killing the Director. Beckman shouldn't be surprised, though; the government had let Shaw pursue the Ring all these years, and even if he was a complete professional on appearance, it was obvious that he sought revenge. After today, there weren't any doubts about that, at least. His attitude had been arctic. Hopefully, he'd find some peace after this.

"We had to leave, and it took us years of work to find the Director. We may never have gotten another opportunity like this one," Shaw said. "Letting him go would have been a mistake."

Chuck hated it—he hated the very idea of it; he hated that he had witnessed it; he hated that the assistant had died; he hated that he might have taken a life as well by shooting that guard; he hated the mission. Perhaps what Chuck hated most, though, was that he couldn't argue Shaw's point about the Director. The whole situation sickened him.

Casey grunted, and Chuck couldn't tell whether it was in agreement or not.

"Very well," Beckman said, somewhat reluctantly.

"What about the Cipher, General?" Casey asked. "The Director confirmed our suspicions regarding their Intersect."

"My team analyzed their Cipher and found a number of problems in the design. Obviously the Ring isn't as far along as they hoped."

"Any idea where the rest of their Intersect is?" Shaw asked. "Did we find it at the L.A. cell?"

"No, we still don't know," Beckman said. "The L.A. cell interrogations haven't been conclusive. Although, the engineers—including Depark—have started to talk."

Chuck had an uneasy feeling at the idea of these interrogations. The desk workers probably hadn't been trained for this.

"In spite of the loss of the Director," Beckman resumed, and shot another glare at Shaw. The agent stayed stolid, unaffected by the reprimand. Chuck almost envied him for it; he didn't always do well with Beckman's stern demeanor. "This is overall good news. So, good job."

"I guess it's back to the Buy More for today, huh?" Chuck said, once Beckman had disconnected the conference call.

Casey left without saying a word.

"You did good today, Chuck," Shaw said, and patted one of his shoulders once. "Good job," he added, before leaving for his office.

Chuck dragged his aching self to the locker room, so he could take a shower and change. He felt numb, but in a painful way. His shoulder hurt. His right palm was slightly burned from the rappelling cord, although his glove had covered most of it. He was sure his knees were creaking with every step he made.

Mostly though, he was just tired. It wasn't surprising since he hadn't slept much. He couldn't say he minded, however, and felt his lips curl upward at the thought, for the first time since he'd shot the guard.

"Hurry up," Casey told him from the doorway, startling Chuck, even though he was whispering. "And for Pete's sake, stop daydreaming."

"I wasn't—"

Casey held out a hand. "I don't want to know," he said, wrinkling his face. He waved his phone. "Got a text. We have somewhere to be."

Chuck wondered what was with the cryptic phrases, until his brain decided to function again despite the fatigue, and he realized it was Sarah.

He hurried up.


	11. The Red Test

_**December 4, 2009** _

The sound of the door made Sarah spin around from facing the wall, and she saw Chuck enter the safe house. He immediately smiled brightly before greeting her, causing Sarah's frowning expression to light up.

"Hey," she replied, before wondering why he was alone. "Where's Casey?"

"He got held up at the Buy More," Chuck said. "And since I had to get rid of my watch anyway, I left separately."

"How did it go?"

"Could have gone better," Chuck answered without elaborating. Sarah felt her eyebrows raise in question, but he didn't catch it. Chuck was studying the table and the mess of files, loose sheets, and post-its she had made during the afternoon. "We got the Ring's Cipher," he added without looking up. "They don't have an Intersect, yet, so that's good news."

"Anything on…"

Chuck shook his head. "No. Not yet, at least."

Sarah turned her attention back to the wall. She still couldn't figure out why; why did the Ring want her dead?

"What about you?" Chuck asked, and trudged behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. "You know," he said, before placing a peck on her cheek, "if you're not careful, you might get frown lines."

Sarah let out a chuckle, and turned around to grab his collar and kiss his lips. "Actually," she said, "I think I found something." She pointed at one of the pictures on the wall. "This guy—Bryan Taylor—was Sullivan's partner." She moved to the table to rummage through the folders and find Taylor's info. "His file says he was in Rome as well."

Chuck took the file that Sarah handed him, and started skimming through it. "You don't think that's true?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but… He killed Prince."

Chuck looked up. "What?"

"He was at the L.A. cell. I think he's the one who killed her."

"Are you sure?"

"I didn't get a very good look at him there," Sarah admitted. "But it was enough for his picture to register. I think it's him."

"Okay," Chuck said, and pulled out a chair. He winced as he sat down.

"What is it?" she asked.

"What is what?"

"Did you get hurt on the mission?"

Sarah was beside him in a flash. His pain threshold didn't use to be very high, but he rarely complained about it anymore. He stopped her by lifting his palms in front of him. "I'm fine. I just have a couple of bruises," he said.

"You don't look fine," she said.

"Thank you," he joked. "I'm just a little sore, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

Sarah didn't have time to reply, because Casey came in and said, "Trouble in paradise, already?" Sarah glared at him as he closed the door. "Heh. Anything new?"

"Yeah," she said, before taking a seat. Casey joined them at the table, and Sarah told him about Taylor.

"You think he was in Lisbon as well?" Casey asked.

"It's possible. I didn't see the two other men's faces. I studied both Sullivan's and Taylor's files—we crossed paths a few times within the Agency if you really try to find a link—but there's nothing that would indicate motives."

"You think they were just following orders," Chuck said.

"Seems likely, yeah," Sarah said. "So I looked up who else was in Rome that day, and Shaw was there."

Chuck and Casey exchanged a look, before Chuck spoke, "Shaw isn't Ring, trust me."

At her questioning look, Casey explained, "He killed the Ring Director earlier today."

"Executed was more like it," Chuck said, which made Sarah frown.

"Sometimes you've got to take lives to save lives, Chuck," Casey said.

"Did he have to be so cold about it?"

"What did you want, a ceremony?"

Chuck scowled. "Maybe not," he said, "but the assistant hadn't done anything."

"Why did he kill him?" Sarah asked. "I thought you went there to extract him."

Casey filled Sarah in on what had happened at the Ring headquarters. Apparently, Chuck wasn't the only one shocked by what Shaw had done. The Ring Director had underestimated Shaw's determination as well. If he had thought that Shaw would simply eliminate him that way, he probably wouldn't have delayed things with the Cipher.

Sarah felt relieved at Chuck's reaction to Shaw's actions—she never wanted him to get used to the idea of assassination—but she couldn't help the worry as well. She had executed people too, in the past. In fact, Chuck had seen her execute Mauser a year ago, and she remembered his reaction well.

"The fact is," Chuck eventually said, "Shaw didn't become a Ring expert by chance. The Ring killed his wife five years ago."

"Oh," Sarah said. She hadn't known about that. "Okay, so he's not Ring. But like you said, he's a Ring expert. There's probably information in his records about them that we don't know. Can you hack his file?"

"I'll see if I can," Chuck replied, and grabbed the laptop Casey had brought in from Castle that morning. "It might take me some time."

Sarah stood up to make coffee; it could be a long night. She and Casey continued going through files, and she caught him and Chuck up on what she had added to the wall, while Chuck worked on the hacking.

"Okay," Chuck said after a while. "I think I got it." He put the laptop in front of Sarah's unoccupied chair, next to him, turning it so he could see the screen as well.

Sarah sat down to skim through the data. Shaw had been pretty busy during his career. He'd been stationed in Rome for two years; perhaps that explained why he'd been there when the CIA facility had been breached in May. She clicked on the next page, and suddenly, a really cold sensation ran through Sarah's stomach.

When she froze, Chuck said, "What? What is it?"

––––o–––––o––––

 

Sarah stood up from her chair, and took a few steps across the room, turning her back to Chuck and Casey. Chuck watched her for a moment; he had no idea what her reaction was about.

Casey must have been wondering the same thing, for he asked, "Walker, what's going on?"

Chuck looked back at the screen when she didn't answer. It displayed a picture of Shaw's wife: Evelyn Shaw. She had died in Paris. There weren't many other details about her death included in the file.

"Did you know her? Evelyn Shaw?"

Sarah finally spun back around. Her face had drained of all of its color. "I only knew her picture," she said, her voice deathly faint. She looked at Casey then, and Chuck saw her swallow. "She was…" she paused, as though she couldn't say the word. She was scaring Chuck like nothing else. "She was my Red Test."

Chuck glanced at Casey; a look of recognition appeared on his partner's face. "What's, uh," Chuck hesitated. Should he ask, now, or later when Sarah had a chance to calm down a bit? She really didn't look well. His partners were so silent, though, it was starting to freak him out. "What's a Red Test?"

Sarah looked down at the question. It made Chuck stand up, although he wasn't sure why.

"It's the final test you have to pass to become a full-fledged CIA agent," Casey said.

"Okay," Chuck said, tentatively.

"You did what you had to do, Sarah," Casey told her. "If you were given that assignment, it means that she was a threat."

What assignment? What threat?

"I killed her," Sarah said to no one in particular. "She was my Red Test…" She swallowed again, and this time her eyes were on Chuck when she said, "I killed Shaw's wife."

Chuck wasn't sure how much time passed, but once the shock of Sarah's statement dissipated, he stepped forward.

Sarah immediately retreated. "Don't," she said.

"Sarah."

"Don't," she repeated, with a shake of her head.

Chuck couldn't just do nothing. He still wasn't sure that he understood what had happened, but whatever it had been, Sarah must have had a good reason to kill Evelyn Shaw. He knew it and Casey had said as much. Sarah's breathing had gotten heavier. Chuck stepped forward again, and he reached out to grab her. She didn't move—didn't step back; didn't hug him back either.

"We need to find out what Shaw knows," Chuck heard Casey say, and he felt a dread of realization pass through him.

"I thought I was a good spy," Sarah said.

Chuck didn't know whether she was talking to him or herself. "You are," he replied. He leaned back and bent his knees to make eye contact with her. "Sarah, you're the best spy I know." Doubt—that was all Chuck could make out in the myriad of emotions battling across her face. "Hell, you're the best person I know," he insisted. He hugged her to him again, but twisted his head toward Casey. "If Shaw knows about this…"

Casey checked his watch. "He's probably still at Castle," he said. "We could search his hotel room."

Chuck nodded, but didn't leave Sarah when Casey started moving around the room. His partner gathered the laptop and other objects they might need. Casey went to the office next. Chuck wondered how long Sarah and him stayed there, motionless, until Casey came back and said, "Come on, let's go."

––––o–––––o––––

Chuck let the closet door slide close and perambulated around the bedroom. He and Sarah had sneaked into Shaw's hotel room. His superior had left Castle and was now on his way to the hotel. They didn't have much time left.

"Maybe he doesn't know," Chuck said, loud enough for Sarah to hear him. He had seen how Shaw was set on bringing the Ring down. He'd seen his rage when they had been facing the Director. Chuck had a hard time believing anyone could fake that kind of emotion. And so far, he and Sarah hadn't found anything suspicious in his room.

There wasn't much inside. Shaw had been away for four days. His suitcase was on his bed, unopened. Chuck assumed Shaw had put it there when he came back earlier from the airport. The entire hotel room felt empty. Nothing was out of place. Knowing his superior, it didn't surprise Chuck.

"Or maybe he knows, but he killed the Ring Director anyway," Sarah said, from the living room she was searching. "The Ring _is_ a criminal organization after all, and Shaw refused to just let the Director go, like he said."

Chuck unfastened the suitcase. It was the only thing left to search in the bedroom. "But we know that it's the Ring that's been after you, since Amy was working for Prince," he replied. "If Shaw is involved because of his wife, then wouldn't that mean that he'd be working for the Ring? Why kill the Director, then?"

"Taylor killed Prince," Sarah said. "Obviously, Ring agents don't really mind killing each other."

"Taylor could have been undercover," Chuck pointed out. "We don't know for sure that he was dirty like Sullivan."

"Why run then?"

"I don't know." None of it made any sense. They were clearly missing something. Silence lapsed and Chuck diverted his attention from the clothes inside the suitcase. He walked to the doorway. "Do you, hmm, do you want to talk about it?"

Sarah didn't answer. After the discovery about Evelyn Shaw at the safe house, she had progressively regained her poise during the car ride, but Sarah had still walked into the hotel room hesitatingly—a tad of shock seemingly remained.

Casey, Chuck, and Sarah had put together their plan on the way to Shaw's hotel. After analyzing the area, they'd figured that the roof of a building nearby offered a good view of Shaw's room. They had installed surveillance there, where Casey could monitor the feed from Castle on a laptop via satellites, and keep an eye on the room through a sniper rifle. Meanwhile, Chuck and Sarah were in charge of ransacking the hotel room.

"We've wondered why someone would want to get rid of me," Sarah said, evading the elephant in the room. "Killing someone's wife seems like a good reason to me."

"You only did your job," Chuck said. "Shaw's probably killed someone's wife himself. He didn't wonder if the Director had a family when he killed him today."

"Because he knew who he was killing."

Chuck couldn't really argue with that. He didn't think he could kill anyone, let alone someone he didn't know. He'd meant what he'd said, though. Sarah was a good agent—she was a good person. Chuck was curious about the circumstances of Evelyn Shaw's death, even if it felt a little morbid to wonder about the details, but he didn't have doubts about Sarah and her reasons for killing Evelyn Shaw. "You can talk to me about it, you know," he said.

"You need to hurry," Casey's voice sounded through their earpieces. "He's only a few minutes away, now."

Sarah closed the bar and turned towards him to ask, "Do you know who she was?" She opened the door of the closet, next to the entrance. "Why would Shaw think the Ring was behind her death?" She didn't wait for his answer, and went through the closet a second time.

Chuck went back to the suitcase. "We're almost done," he said to Casey. "Shaw said she was an agent undercover inside the Ring," he told Sarah. He ran his hand along the bottom of the suitcase, under the clothes. Feeling a cold surface, he dug the object out. It was a metallic box. "Can I have your lock picking kit?"

"Did you find something?" Sarah said.

"Time to go," Casey said. "Shaw's here."

"I found a box, but it's locked," Chuck said, realizing Sarah was already entering the bedroom.

She handed him the kit. "It's the last thing, then. I'll check that everything is back in place. You got it?"

Chuck nodded. He was already at work. Lock picking was an ability of the Intersect; it shouldn't take too long.

"Get out of there, _now_ ," Casey said.

"I almost got it," Chuck replied. The box opened. There were disks inside, similar to the ones they had found in Evelyn Shaw's lockbox at Storman's mansion in October.

"We need to go, Chuck," he heard Sarah say.

Chuck cursed under his breath. He made a quick job of reinserting the box into the suitcase and closing the luggage. When he stepped out of the bedroom, he handed the lock picking kit back to Sarah, who was waiting for him. He hadn't made two steps towards the door when they heard the knob turn.

"Get back," he said in a whisper, motioning to the bedroom. Sarah went first, but Chuck didn't follow her inside. Instead, he closed the door behind her.

"What are you—" he heard her murmur, when he turned towards the door. He was just in time to see Shaw come in.

"Chuck?" Shaw asked.

He mustered a smile and with a small wave, said, "H-hi."

––––o–––––o––––

 

Her heartbeat was racing. Sarah didn't dare move.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" she heard Shaw ask.

"Uh, I came to see you," Chuck said. There was a brief pause. "The maid was looking at me suspiciously so I let myself in. Sorry," he added.

"What's up? Did you flash?"

Sarah shut her eyes closed and breathed in deeply. There wasn't anywhere to go from the bedroom. The building's floor was too high for the window to be an option. She wasn't leaving without Chuck, anyway. The only way out was the hotel room door, and for that, Chuck needed to get Shaw out of the room.

"Hmm, no," Chuck said. "I wanted to talk to you."

Sarah heard movements from the other side of the door, before Shaw replied, "Okay." He was obviously wondering what was going on.

"I mean, today was eventful, and I—I thought, you know, maybe we could go have coffee or something."

Coffee, Chuck? Are you trying to ask Shaw on a date? It was past nine o'clock. Sarah rather felt like having a beer. She could use one right about now. The other agent must have been skeptical about Chuck's choice of beverage too, because there was a pause in the conversation. Sarah pulled out her gun. She realized that the lock picking kit was still in her hand, causing her eyes to settle on Shaw's suitcase.

"Walker," Casey said, "they're both in the room—talking. I have visual on Shaw. Stay put."

As if she could go anywhere.

"Chuck, I know the mission didn't go as we expected. I'm sorry you had to see that," Shaw said. "But like I said earlier, I did what I had to do. You understand that, don't you?"

Sarah pondered for a moment, while Chuck kept talking. "I do, I do," he said. "I just thought…maybe you'd want to talk about it. It's been a stressful day." If she was stuck inside the bedroom, Sarah might as well do something useful; she opened the suitcase.

"I know, but honestly, I'm a little tired from my flight and the mission, and I just want to get some rest."

The box was still opened.

"Why don't you sit, and I'll, uh, make ourselves some drinks?" Chuck said. Sarah will have to remember to talk to her boyfriend about how he sounded like he was hitting on his boss. "That's a nice bar you have here. What kind of wood is it? Mahogany?"

Exploring through the various items—disks, guns, knives, passports—an uneasy feeling pierced through her for the second time that day, until she froze once more, at the sight of what was hidden beside them: her charm bracelet.

"Chuck, what is this really about?" Shaw asked. "Why are you in my room?"

That bastard. He _knew_.

Sarah didn't think twice. She drew her weapon and opened the bedroom door so fast that she saw Chuck jump. "Don't move!" she said.

A couple of feet away from Chuck, Shaw was standing next to the couch. "Walker?" he asked. If it hadn't been for the flicker of recognition in his eyes when he first saw her, Sarah would have been put off; he looked utterly unfazed by her presence—or the firearm she was aiming at him. Shaw twisted his neck to address Chuck, who wasn't looking as composed. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It's not what you think," Chuck immediately told Shaw.

"What is it, then?"

"I'll ask the questions," Sarah said. "Pull out your gun."

Shaw didn't comply with her request; instead he resumed talking. "What do you think is gonna happen? You're a wanted criminal. Even if you made it out of here today, the government will find you eventually."

"She's innocent," Chuck said.

"Chuck!"

"I'd hardly call her innocent," Shaw said. "She killed a government agent."

"Pull out your gun," Sarah repeated, advancing towards them.

Again, Shaw ignored her. "She cut a woman's throat yesterday."

"She didn't," Chuck said. He was emphatic. "It wasn't her."

"I know you'd prefer to think so, Chuck. She probably had a good story for you. But you saw the evidence." Shaw turned to her. "You can still surrender, and no one will get hurt."

"Like hell. Your gun," Sarah asserted. "Or I _will_ shoot you."

"Sarah!"

"If what Chuck says is true—if," Shaw said, insisting on the word, "you're innocent. Then, let the government do its job and prove it. Running isn't helping your case."

Daniel Shaw was certainly daring—claiming to be a good guy; trying to get Chuck on his side. Sarah suppressed the anger growing within her; she needed to be in control. "He knows, Chuck," she said simply. Her gaze didn't leave Shaw, who stared right back with a bleak expression. She couldn't say if he understood her meaning at all. Sarah didn't need to glance at Chuck, however, to see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed—her peripheral vision was enough.

Chuck strode behind Shaw without warning, ostensibly in the intent of taking Shaw's firearm out of his waistband. Sarah's "Chuck, no!" resonated simultaneously with Casey's "Get out of the way, Bartowski!"

Shaw didn't waste the opportunity. He grabbed Chuck and took him with him as he dived behind the couch. Sarah couldn't shoot. She moved forward, but it was too late. Shaw had pulled out his gun—which was pressed up against Chuck's head.

"Let him go!"

"What are you doing, Shaw?" Chuck said, in a strained voice.

Shaw tightened his hold around Chuck's neck. "Get up." He pulled them to their feet, and receded towards the door, dragging Chuck with him in an awkward position, considering Chuck's height. "How long have you been working together, exactly?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Chuck said, before groaning as Shaw's arm applied more pressure around his neck. Sarah's hand tightened around her Smith and Wesson at the sound. Chuck's complexion was adopting a darker shade of red with every new second.

"Damn it, I can't get a visual, Walker," she heard Casey say.

"If you hurt him," Sarah started to say, and she saw Shaw smirk at her words. He hadn't known about her relationship to Chuck before, but now…

"Then, what? You'll kill another agent?"

Sarah hesitated. She didn't know why she'd been ordered to kill his wife. What was she supposed to say to him?

"See, Chuck? That's what she does," Shaw said, reaching the door. "She kills agents, just like she was threatening to kill me. How can you defend her? I thought you were a good man."

"She was ordered to do it," Chuck struggled. "It wasn't her call."

"Open the door, Chuck."

"No."

"I said: open the damn door," Shaw repeated, choking Chuck tighter and pressing the gun harder. "Tell him," he told Sarah.

A few seconds passed, feeling like an eternity, and during which Sarah was contemplating her options. She could try to shoot him, but Shaw had positioned Chuck in a way that protected him; he'd understood she likely wouldn't take the chance.

"I can't shoot him, Sarah," Casey said.

"Do it, Chuck," she said. "Open the door."

It was only another squeeze from Shaw's arm that convinced Chuck to move. His hand reached out wonkily. He didn't get the doorknob to pivot on his first try, but as soon as he did, Shaw pushed him forward violently in Sarah's direction.

She caught him, before helping him down on the floor so he could recuperate. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Chuck said between coughs, "go."

––––o–––––o––––

_**December 5, 2009** _

Sarah followed Chuck inside the old store. Later, she might take the time to think about how strange it was to be back in Burbank. She hadn't dwelt on it during her and Chuck's stakeout of Castle two days ago, but being back here after all this time, after all that had happened, felt…bizarre.

She had lived twenty months there. She knew, because she had done the math before leaving for Europe, and often wondered if it had been the most decisive twenty months of her life. Now, she was back in the old store where she'd worked countless hours—serving an awful lot of teenage customers, but mostly scrubbing the counters and tables out of what had become a habit.

The Orange Orange looked…decommissioned. All the stools had disappeared, along with the decorative items on the shelves, and all of the cups, spoons, napkins, and other various items used to make frozen yogurts. There were a few boxes on the tables. A white sheet was draped over the counter, obscuring the "Yogurt and fun" sign. The machines were left opened, leaving their entrails in view.

Chuck opened the freezer's door and faced the identification panel for the eye scanning process. The picture that appeared on the screen was new. Another sign showing that things were different—six months had elapsed.

"You found anything?" Casey shouted, as soon as they appeared at the top of the stairs.

"There were all sorts of files in his car, and disks, stuff like that," Chuck said, galloping down. "The cleaners took everything to our CIA office downtown. You?"

Shaw had escaped them. It might have been a hotel, but he'd had home field advantage there, and it had only been the security cameras that had told them that he went out by one of the back entrances. They didn't know what transportation Shaw had used to leave, but he hadn't bothered with his car—likely not wanting to take any risks by going back to it.

"I'm pulling up the video surveillance to see what he did here," Casey said. "General Beckman will keep us updated."

Casey had called Beckman to tell her that Shaw was rogue. Chuck and Sarah had stayed to finish searching his room, and take care of his car. They'd waited for the cleaning team to make sure that the Ring wouldn't come first. Meanwhile, Casey had left for Castle immediately in order to coordinate the search and make sure to break Shaw's access to the base. He had been too late. Shaw had already come and gone.

"Maybe I should go back then," Sarah said, her foot landing on the floor. What was she even doing in Castle, a government base, when she was a fugitive? She glanced back at the door, suddenly feeling trapped.

"She wants us to report," Casey said.

Beckman gave them confirmation as she showed up on the main screen, and said, "You too, Agent Walker." Her appearance startled Chuck—he'd been unnerved ever since Shaw had grabbed him.

"General," Sarah said, straightening herself instinctively as she walked in front of the table.

"It appears that a mistake has been made," Beckman said. No kidding. "The Ring has infiltrated our government agencies more deeply than we thought, and as I understand it, you've been the victim of their plot." It didn't sound like much of an apology. "I'm glad to see you're well." The last part was added with a smile. Though it seemed genuine, it would take more than a little smile from her government to warm Sarah's heart.

Because there were more pressing matters—such as a rogue CIA agent, somehow involved with the Ring, who was trying to kill her—Sarah didn't want to get into it now. "Thank you," she said tersely, before glancing at Chuck, who'd appeared at her side.

"General," Chuck started.

"I have the video," Casey cut him off. He didn't wait to play it.

The room fell silent as Shaw appeared on a second screen. His gait was determined. Shaw didn't waste time; every movement had been thought out—he knew what he wanted, but didn't rush. After their confrontation at the hotel, Sarah was beginning to understand all too well what Chuck meant when he had said Shaw could act very cold on missions.

Shaw went first to his office. He opened a desk drawer and pressed its bottom, revealing a hidden compartment.

"What is it?" Chuck asked. "Papers?"

"Looks like," Casey replied. "Probably passports and the like."

Shaw grabbed a bag in the armory and filled it with weapons and ammunition, before going to the lockers. He unlocked three of them. Drawing out a backpack from the first one, he put the papers inside along with whatever he'd taken from the other two lockers.

Chuck didn't wait for the question, he accessed a computer to check the locker contents, Sarah assumed. "He took the Cipher," he said with alarm.

"Uh-uh. I checked," Casey said. "It's still here."

"What else was in that locker?" Sarah asked.

"The Cipher modifications," Beckman said, displeased. "My team sent them a few hours ago."

The image froze after Shaw had left with his two bags, a tranquil expression on his face, as though being made didn't pose any difference to him. Who was this guy?

"It might be all they were missing to complete their Intersect," Chuck said, and Sarah noticed that his eyes had grown rounder.

"Aside from finding Shaw, there's nothing to do about the Cipher now," Beckman said, unaffected by Chuck's slight panic. "Shaw walked until he was out of sight of our cameras. We don't know where or how he went from there. All of our agencies are on alert."

"Sarah needs protection," Chuck said.

"I agree," Beckman said. Sarah saw Chuck's mouth open, as though he was ready to argue, but he didn't say anything, probably realizing the General had agreed. Beckman removed her glasses. "The details of what has happened to you will need to be sorted out first, but you should be reinstated in the following days," she told Sarah. "I'll see to it."

Sarah should be happy. She was finally cleared; or she would be soon, whatever. However, she didn't exactly feel like celebrating. So, the only acknowledgment she gave about it was a nod.

Then, she said, "Well, it's late. I'm going to get some sleep." Sarah left, feeling Chuck's and Casey's eyes on her. When she reached the stairs, though, something important caused her to spin back towards the screen. She gave her boyfriend a small smile, before saying, "Oh and, you should probably know: Chuck and I are dating."

––––o–––––o––––

 

Chuck felt himself brighten at Sarah's declaration. He was dating Sarah Walker—officially. He watched her climb the stairs, wondering where she was going and if he should follow her. Casey brought him back to Earth with a grunt, however, and Chuck's grin faded at Beckman's scowl.

"I must caution you, Agent Bartowksi," she said, in that way she had that made you feel like a child being lectured. "That allowing your private life to _interfere_ ," she was careful to emphasize the word, "with your professional one, can be dangerous."

Chuck restrained from gulping at first, but he and Sarah had been working together for months. Not just hiding from everybody, but figuring out what nobody in the government or the Ring had as well. What did Beckman know about personal relationships, or he and Sarah, anyway? He wasn't going to let her _interfere,_ either.

"But," Beckman added, "after what Colonel Casey told me earlier, I'll allow it."

Oh. Okay, then. If she preferred to think she was allowing it, so be it. Chuck didn't care.

"We intercepted Agent Taylor before he could disappear," Beckman carried on. "We have him in custody, and he's already asked for a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Chuck asked.

"He wants protection," Beckman said. "We'll decide on the matter shortly. For now, Colonel, I trust you'll organize Agent Walker's protection?" Beckman said, though they all knew it wasn't a question. "A team of agents is on its way to Castle as we speak."

"I'll have Bart—Chuck, checking the files of the agents assigned, in case he'd flash on them," Casey said.

"It'd be safer to contain her to Castle, but," Beckman said, and pursed her lips, "I doubt Agent Walker will agree to that. If not, you'll have to find an alternative."

"She could stay with me," Chuck said; it earned him another scowl. "The apartment complex is the most secure place after Castle and the Buy More. And Casey would be next door, too."

Beckman let an instant go by, before answering, "Very well. Keep me updated, and report first thing tomorrow morning."

Before she could disconnect the conference call, Chuck spoke, "General, do we know why Evelyn Shaw was the target of Sarah's Red Test? Who ordered it?"

"I'm afraid that Langston Graham took that secret to his grave," she answered. "Good night."

"I'll get the files," Casey said. "Go find Walker; she shouldn't leave by herself. But don't go home before you check on the agents."

Chuck nodded, and took the stairs—each step faster than the previous. He needn't worry. He found Sarah in the Orange Orange. She was sitting on the bench between two tables, Indian style, with her forearms resting on her knees.

"Hey," Chuck said, keeping his voice quiet; feeling as though the atmosphere of the room demanded it. It was dim inside. Sarah hadn't switched on the light, and the only source of illumination came from the parking lot lamps, through the closed blinds. "What are you doing in here?"

Sarah looked around and gave him a slight shrug. "I guess you're not the only one getting nostalgic." She smiled, but it was somewhat of a sad one.

Unsure about what he should do, what she wanted him to do—should he give her some space or was it the opposite that she needed from him right now?—Chuck approached, but decided on leaning on the counter in front of her. "Don't tell me you miss frozen yogurt."

"No," she said, her smile getting brighter this time.

He wasn't sure what was going through her head after everything that had happened, but there were a few things on his mind he wanted to say. "I'm sorry," he uttered. "It's my fault that Shaw escaped."

"If it's anyone's fault, I'm pretty sure it's mine, Chuck," Sarah said. "I killed his wife."

Sarah kept saying it that way—she killed Shaw's wife—and although it was true, Chuck really wasn't sure why she used those words over and over. He wasn't sure what to say about it either. What would he do if they gave him a Red Test? He could barely face the fact that he'd shot a man earlier that day at the Ring headquarters.

She must have caught his musings, for she asked, "What is it? What are you thinking about?"

"I shot someone today," Chuck said, out of the blue. He didn't mean to make it about him, but maybe that was how he'd get her to talk.

Sarah clearly wasn't expecting his comment either, because surprise showed on her face when she looked up from her hands. "What?"

"I didn't kill him; I just shot him in his shoulder. I remembered how you'd shot your dad that way, and I called up the Intersect to make sure it would be a clean shot but…I shot him."

"Why? Was he after you?"

"No, I was covering—" Chuck stopped himself, realizing what he was going to say. "I was covering Shaw." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Maybe, I should have let them get to him."

"Chuck…" Sarah said, with a sigh of her own. "You don't mean that."

"No, I don't. But…" Chuck felt stupid, and angry. How could he have not seen it? How could he have worked alongside Shaw for six months, while the other agent had been trying to kill Sarah?

Sarah didn't let him go on. "You're not a killer, Chuck."

He licked his lips. He'd been wondering about that since he had heard Casey's words about the final test that a trainee had to pass. "About that," he said. "About, you know…this whole Red Test thing." He saw her pull away for a moment. Maybe he shouldn't be the one mentioning it. No, they needed to talk about it. She should talk about it. He went on, "Is that…is that what's waiting for me?"

Perhaps it was because he kept the subject on him, Chuck didn't know, but Sarah looked relieved; she ceased looking away. "I don't know. You're the Intersect, so your situation is different."

"I don't think I could do it."

"You don't have to," Sarah said, with more firmness.

"But then, I wouldn't become an agent. So…what would I be?"

"Then, you'll be Chuck." The way Sarah said it—it seemed to mean so much more to her than just his name—he couldn't help but smile a little. "If you did, it would change you," she carried on, "you wouldn't be the same person again." She shook her head, before catching his gaze. "I know I wasn't. I remember everything about my Red Test."

Chuck couldn't stay away anymore; the need to be closer urged him to join her on the bench. "What, hmm, how did it happen?" He waited, uncertain about whether she'd confide in him.

"They gave me a street name and a time to be there," Sarah said eventually, and she glanced at the shelves in front of her, although her eyes didn't look focused. If he had to guess, Chuck would say that she was back on the same Parisian street. "No name, just a photo. And it was all happening the way it was supposed to and then… And then she dropped something, like a piece of jewelry, and…and I just couldn't do it," Sarah said. "Not with her on the ground like that. So I just kept walking."

It sounded like Sarah, Chuck thought. He knew it hadn't ended on that, though, and at her pause, he reached out to squeeze her hand. When he glanced back at her face, her eyes were shining—moistened—even in the darkness of the room.

"And then in a reflection, I saw her reaching for a weapon." Sarah shook her head again. "Well, at least I thought I saw her reaching. And I wanted to go back and check, but it was, uh…" she said. "There was no time." She twisted her neck to look at him as she finished.

It seemed that she was a little scared of what he thought of her in that moment. It was a rare occurrence when Chuck didn't know what to say, but he didn't like feeling like he was now, didn't like to see her like this. Sarah was so strong. So he scooted closer on the bench and put his arm around her.

He felt her relax at the gesture, even if her next words weren't anything appeasing. "It was the worst day of my life," she said, uncrossing her legs and tilting her head to the side, to let it rest on his shoulder.

Silence lapsed. Chuck was glad to notice that it wasn't uncomfortable. Sarah wasn't pulling away from him, like had often been the case in the past when it came to sharing something with him.

After a moment, she straightened up a bit to look at him, and he could see that her eyes were clearer. "It's a sacrifice you make, as an agent, and there's no turning back from it," she told him. "You can justify it all you want in terms of duty, but you're still left with what you've done afterwards." She moistened her lips and added, "I accepted it a long time ago, but I never wanted you to have to deal with that."

"Is that why you wanted us to run?"

"It was part of it," she said, with a nod. "But it's not the only thing in this life that can get to you."

Chuck remembered what she had told him in Seattle as well. "I'm still me, though. You know that, right?" he said. She didn't answer right away, so he went on. "I mean, I'm not that same guy that you first met at the Buy More, because…because back then, my life wasn't going anywhere. And sure, I thought it'd be great to be a spy, it gave me a purpose, helping people, but now…"

"Chuck, I know. You don't have to—"

"Now, I know. I just want to be with you."

Sarah smiled at him, before lifting a hand to his face and bringing him to her so she could press a kiss on his cheek. "I know."

Chuck leaned in to kiss her, but his phone beeped, interrupting them as usual. They really had the worst timing in history. He dug out his phone with a sigh to read the text message. "It's Casey. He wants me to check that the agents assigned to protect you aren't in the Intersect."

Chuck got up reluctantly, but Sarah didn't follow him. Instead, she said, "I'll join you in a minute."

––––o–––––o––––

 

Although Chuck had been watching his window closely in the dark, his eyelids had started dropping. So when the window slid up in a silent motion Chuck never knew was possible, he didn't notice right away. When he did, he saw Sarah close the blinds. She moved carefully into the room, perhaps thinking that he was sleeping, and Chuck profited from the moment by watching her.

Sarah must have left her bag in the trunk of her car because she only had her purse with her. She placed it against the wall, and covered it with the black hooded jacket she slipped out of. She'd changed into his Browncoat t-shirt again. He only noticed now that her hair was finishing up drying from the shower she must have taken at the safe house. She'd gone there to bring her things back with her, and, Chuck assumed, to have a moment to herself.

She hadn't really verbalized it, but Sarah had told him he should go home, and hadn't let him argue against it. He'd been reluctant to leave without her—even knowing that she had her protection detail following her around—but Sarah didn't give him much of a choice, either. Chuck figured that she'd been used to solitude for the past few months. He understood. He'd always been used to company, but she wasn't. Nevertheless, he was relieved to see her back now. That's why he had waited for her after getting ready for bed.

When Sarah straightened up, she glanced in the direction of the bed, as though unsure. "Hey," she whispered, and gave him a large smile, seeing that he wasn't sleeping. "Did you lock the door?"

They had agreed that Ellie and/or Morgan, or even Awesome for that matter, catching Sarah in Chuck's bed wasn't the best way to announce her return. That conversation would be awkward and complicated enough as it was.

Chuck couldn't wait to tell them—it was the following questions he dreaded: When had they gotten back together? How did it happen? Why didn't he say anything? Was Sarah back from D.C. for good? What was their plan? Had they settled on a date for the wedding? What name had they chosen for their first born?

Okay, they'd probably avoid freaking Sarah out with the last two questions, considering their "complicated" history, but he and Sarah would still have to lie about everything; or tell the truth. Chuck hadn't decided yet.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, lighting up his bedside lamp.

Sarah sat on the bed and bent over to take off her shoes. Chuck felt his eyes boggle when she stood and took off her jeans too, revealing a great amount of silky skin. His reaction made her chuckle as she slid into bed, and she seized his chin in her right hand, closing his mouth before bringing him closer to kiss him.

Chuck felt himself blush slightly when the kiss broke, but she was obviously pleased by his reaction. Besides, he figured drooling at the sight of his (slightly clothed) girlfriend was bound to happen on a fairly frequent basis when your girlfriend was Sarah Walker. She wasn't just gorgeous—although she really was stunningly gorgeous—she also had never been shy about showing it off. He couldn't say he minded, au contraire, even if it meant his brain wasn't always working quite normally in her presence. To be fair, his brain was acting up on him when she was fully clothed as well, so there wasn't much Chuck could do anyway.

Once his brain and the rest of him had caught up, however, he recalled what he had forgotten to give her at Castle. "Oh, I got something for you," he said. He grinned when she all but pouted as he pulled back to get out of bed.

Curiosity must have gotten the best of her, because she was standing next to him when he turned back from his desk. "Here," he said, extending her charm bracelet so he could fasten it around her wrist.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and she stared at it for a few seconds, before looking up with a smile. "I thought it was just a bracelet?" she said.

"Uh," that wasn't the reaction he expected, "it is, but—"

She chuckled and cut him off with another kiss. "Thank you," she said and placed her arm between them. A pensive expression displayed on her face as she observed the bracelet, once it was back safely around her wrist. "I, uh, I also wanted to say thank you for," she glanced up at him, and he smiled because she looked a little sheepish for some reason. "Saving me, I guess."

"Saving you?" Chuck said. "I've been working with that guy all along!"

"You couldn't have known," Sarah said. "And Shaw didn't know about us either. You know how it is."

"I guess," he said, though he wasn't convinced.

"In fact, without you, we still wouldn't know it was him," she added.

"You made him."

" _We_ did. I couldn't have done it without you. Maybe I'd be dead, already."

"Sarah!"

"Chuck," she said, replicating his tone. "I'm saying thank you, so just...take it."

"Well, you're welcome. It would probably sound better to say that I did it all for you," he said, and he could see she was wondering where he was going with this, "but the truth is, I did it for me too." He stepped closer and enveloped her with his arms.

The light from the hallway, suddenly appearing under the bedroom door as it was switched on, distracted them. They both froze, and Chuck saw the shadow of someone passing his door. For a second, he pictured Shaw barging through, with some kind of machete or a chainsaw, just like in a bad horror movie.

"Morgan?" Sarah said.

That made more sense, and it was a whole lot less of a scary thought.

"I'm sorry we have to hide in here," Chuck said, and kept his voice even quieter than their previous whispers. "I'm sure that's not how you envisioned your first night of freedom." He turned back to look at his door, wishing the Intersect had some sort of see-through ability. That'd be not only cool, but handy right about now.

"Actually," Sarah said, her arms circling around his neck, "this is pretty close."

"Still, I'm sorry that—um, what?"

She chortled. "What exactly did you think I'd do?"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't know. Go out? Not hide—again."

"With Beckman not even wanting me to leave Castle?" Sarah said, while she began moving backwards, leading him along with her. At his shrug, she asked, "Do you want to go out?"

"Um, no." He felt more like staying in bed for a day, or three. "I could barely keep my eyes open while I was waiting for you."

Sarah stopped when they reached the bed. "You didn't have to wait, if—"

"I wanted to."

Chuck stilled as the light in the hallway switched off. Could Morgan have heard them? He quickly dismissed the thought; considering his best friend's sense of boundaries, Morgan would have likely said something. Chuck sighed and pressed his cheek against the top of Sarah's head. Her hair smelled really good.

"I don't care about going out," she said. Her eyes sparkled a bit when she gazed at him. "I just wanted to be with you, too."

The grin was kind of hurting his face, but Chuck didn't mind. He leaned in to kiss her, and Sarah clutched his collar in that way she had, and pulled him onto the bed with her.

"You know," he said, readjusting the position of his knees so he wouldn't crush her, "if you keep this up, all of my shirts will be deformed."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "So?" she said, in a challenge.

His girlfriend was in a much better mood since she had gotten back from the safe house. And she smiled a lot. It was infectious. "I'll just get new ones," Chuck said, and Sarah was all too eager to kiss him again, before sliding on her side of the bed to slip her really, _really_ long legs under the covers.

Chuck turned off the lamp on his nightstand, and rolled to Sarah's side, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm glad you're here," he said.

Sarah ran a hand through his hair. Although his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, he saw a look in her eyes she didn't let him see often. He wasn't sure what it meant, but she did look even more adorable than usual.

He couldn't resist. He burrowed into her neck, his right hand gliding under her shirt to draw circles on her skin.

"Chuck, what are you doing?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"I thought you were tired," Sarah said.

He was. He was exhausted. His body ached. He couldn't care less.

Chuck retracted to make sure he wasn't being presumptuous. Even if he wasn't the sharpest individual at picking up signals, he doubted it. "Your presence is energizing," he said.

She looked amused, and her eyebrows rose again, when she said, "What about Morgan? Is that how you want him to find out?"

"The soundproofing is really good." His eyes darted in direction of Morgan's room. "I think."

Sarah snerked, but his words apparently convinced her, because she plucked at the hem of his shirt. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."


	12. The Buy More Campaign

_**December 8, 2009** _

Chuck hung up the phone. It was just his luck; another computer emergency on Skip's off day. He pondered asking Jeff and Lester to take care of it as he yawned, but convincing them would take him as much time and effort as doing it himself, only in a much more annoying way. Chuck sighed and swore when he toppled the pencil holder for the third time this afternoon as he moved around the Nerd Herd desk. He had hoped to join Sarah and Casey downstairs during his break, but it would have to wait.

"Chuck!"

He looked up from the car keys he had just seized, and watched his sister draw close to the Nerd Herd desk with…Morgan? Chuck had barely seen either of them in the past few days; the hunt for Shaw, the team's main focus, had kept them busy. They needed to catch him, before he tried something on Sarah again. "Ellie, hi!" he greeted. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," Ellie said.

Chuck tensed immediately. At his sister's words, his first reflex was to look around, in search of a possible escape. He spotted Captain Awesome by the DVDs. His brother-in-law gave Chuck a significant look. Uh-oh—he was in trouble. "The three of us?" he asked.

"Chuck," Morgan said in a solemn tone, "this conversation is never an easy one to have."

"And what conversation would that be, exactly?" Chuck said. As if he didn't have enough to worry about already, Ellie and Morgan had apparently chosen that day for a family talk.

"We've known each other most of our lives," Morgan said, which earned him a look from Ellie. Chuck could relate; he could feel his eyebrows rising with every word. "We, uh, we went through puberty together."

"Hmm."

"We went through the awkward stage after puberty, the awkward high school years, your awkward college years, and now, our current awkward Buy More years. Which is why this moment for me, for us," Morgan said, using his finger to point alternatively at Ellie and him very fast. Chuck's best friend was nervous. "Is so very..."

Chuck jiggled the keys in his hand. "Awkward?" he said.

Morgan nodded. "Yeah."

"Morgan, what exactly is going on?"

"Something is," Morgan said. He tapped his palm flat against the desk for emphasis. "Something is going on in your life."

"Okay, look, I hear you—the both of you," Chuck said. Maybe it was time to tell them. He'd been contemplating it ever since he and Sarah had talked about telling them the truth, but with everything that had happened with Shaw, he still hadn't come to a decision. "But, but shouldn't we, I don't know, have dinner or something? 'Cause a customer just called and—"

"You don't have to lie, Chuck," Ellie said.

"I'm not—"

"Listen," she cut him off. "Uh, I get it, you know. I'm not the one that you share everything with anymore. I just...I just miss being that person. I just wanted to let you know that I'm a really good secret keeper. And—"

"And I'm your best friend!" Morgan said. Ellie's eyes conveyed a bit of exasperation. "And more importantly," he corrected, "Ellie is your sister."

"Okay, um." Chuck tossed his car keys back in a drawer. "Why don't we go somewhere more private?" He said while getting around the Nerd Herd desk. He was walking to them, and looking around to see if anyone could overhear their conversation, when he flashed on a man in black entering the store—a Ring agent. Shaking off the flash, Chuck guided both Ellie and Morgan forward with a hand on their backs. "Let's go to the break room," he said. "Devon!" he called over his shoulders.

Chuck looked behind him. The Ring agent wasn't alone; he had Ring buddies with him, along with guns—many, many guns. Chuck sped up his pace.

"Bro, what's going on?" Awesome asked, as soon as he caught up to them.

"I don't know yet," Chuck said. He opened the break room door. His eyes widened when he saw that Sarah and Casey were there. "Uh…"

Sarah didn't appear fazed by their sudden appearance. "Hey, is everybody okay?" she asked immediately.

"Sarah?" Ellie said.

"Hi," Sarah said, seemingly mustering a smile. It looked awkward.

"So that's what you were hiding from us?" Morgan asked. His tone sounded like a mix of disbelief and hurt. "Are you guys back together?"

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" Ellie added. "We've been worried sick!"

"I—"

"It's Shaw," Casey cut off, causing Chuck to glance at Sarah with alarm. "Devon, grab the table," Casey went on. Awesome didn't react right away, but Casey had a way to motivate you. He was a scary man, especially when he actually tried to be menacing. They moved the table over to block the door.

Sarah was looking at the remnants of a broken chair against the wall, and asked, "What happened here?"

"Chuck went all Jackie Chan on Lester the other day," Morgan replied with enthusiasm.

Sarah didn't seem to feel the same way. "Chuck!" she said disapprovingly.

"It wasn't my fault," Chuck told her. "I was a little stressed out after the debriefing on Prince, and it just happened."

"Could we focus on the armed guys attacking the store, please?" Casey said, annoyed.

"The armed guys?" Ellie said, her voice an octave higher. "Chuck, what is happening?"

"We should get down to Castle," Sarah said. "We're sitting ducks here." She opened the doors from the lockers.

"Castle?" Morgan said. "With a princess and everything?"

"What is this?" Ellie asked about the lockers.

What was he supposed to say? Chuck was pretty sure that all he did was stare at his sister, looking as though he was at a complete loss.

"Come on, everyone downstairs!" Casey ordered, and clutched Morgan's assistant manager shirt to drag him to the door.

"Ow, hey," Morgan whined. "I'm going Casey! Geez."

"Bartowski, move it," Casey called before disappearing with Morgan.

"Ellie," Sarah said, "we'll explain what's going on, but right now we need to go."

"What about the people in the store?" Chuck said.

"We'll worry about that when we're safe," she answered him. "Come on. Devon?"

"Yeah, we should go, babe," Awesome said, taking Ellie's hand.

"Chuck?"

"Follow me," Chuck told them. He led Ellie and Awesome into Castle's main room, leaving Sarah to close the door behind them. The regular lights were all off, making the room a little dim with only the emergency lights working. He could see that Casey was already at the computers, the very image of annoyance. Morgan was sitting upright at the conference table. Chuck assumed Casey had ordered him there.

Sarah came to him. "Chuck, are you okay?"

His head was spinning. Ellie, Morgan, and Awesome were in Castle. He could feel the panic come over him. The Ring and Shaw— _Shaw!_ —had invaded the Buy More. The temperature had risen significantly. There were countless customers and employees inside the store.

"Chuck! Hey!" Sarah said, interrupting his thoughts. "It's gonna be okay."

He looked at her. "Yeah," was all he said.

"We're going to be fine," she insisted. "Ellie, Devon, and Morgan are going to be fine."

"Sarah," Ellie said. "What is going on? What is this place?"

"It's complicated."

"If these guys are armed," Ellie said, "why aren't we calling the police?" She dug out her phone from her pocket. "We don't have a signal down here," she said, squinting at her phone screen. She lifted up her iPhone in front of her.

"Communications are off," Casey said across the room.

"We can't call the police," Sarah replied to Ellie.

"Why not?"

"Because, the men inside the Buy More aren't regular criminals, Ellie."

"Walker!" Casey snapped.

Ellie lifted her arms in the air. "What are you talking about? This is insane."

Sarah ignored Casey and glanced at Chuck. His sister was going to find out he was a spy because freaking Shaw had invaded the Buy More! He should have told her the truth when he had the chance. How was going to explain what was happening?

At his lack of reaction, Sarah said, "Chuck?" Her eyes were clearly asking him if he wanted to take over, or if she should go on. Still nonplussed, he gave her a nod.

"They're spies," Sarah added. "And so are we. Chuck and I are CIA agents and Casey is NSA."

"What?"

"For the past two years," Sarah went on, "we've been working undercover, and this is our base of operations." Ellie stared—hard. "I'm sorry. I know you must have a lot of questions, but right now, we need to stop these men."

"You're being serious?" Ellie said. "She's being serious?" she asked, turning to Chuck.

He didn't have time to answer.

"My best friend," Morgan exclaimed, "is a spy! That's the best news I ever heard!" Ellie glared daggers at him. "I'm just saying…it makes so much sense."

Awesome, who clearly hadn't seen his wife's reaction to Morgan's exclamation, said, "I knew you guys had a secret base!" He had been looking around the place the whole time, but sobered up instantly when Ellie quieted him with another look.

Chuck's sister was _not_ happy.

"Ellie," Chuck said. He stepped forward and came to face her, as Sarah walked to Casey. They were looking at the cameras from the Buy More. "Sarah's right, we need to focus on stopping these guys."

"That's not your job. You work at the Buy More."

Denial—that was to be expected. He was her little brother, not James Bond. "It is, Ellie."

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, I _am_ a spy. And my team here," he said, gesturing at Sarah and Casey, "is a government task force whose prime objective is literally to fight the Ring." He pointed upstairs. "Those guys inside the store."

Ellie looked away for a moment and shook her head. "You're not even kidding, are you?"

"Look, Ellie, I know…I know it's a lot to take in, and I really wish you'd learned about it differently, I'm sorry about that, but...but this is what I do," Chuck said. "This is who I am."

"Bartowski," Casey called.

"Babe, they need to do their job," Awesome said. "Chuck knows what he's doing."

"I know you're scared," Chuck told her, "but I promise you: I'll get us out of this, okay."

Chuck walked to join Casey and Sarah at the table. He heard an "I can't believe you knew and you didn't tell me" from Ellie to her husband, but he tried to focus on the task at hand.

"Don't touch anything, Grimes," Casey growled.

Morgan brought up his hands defensively in front of him. "Fine. What now?"

"You let us work, and don't do anything," Casey said.

Chuck gave his best friend an apologetic look, but Casey was right. They had a job to do. "What's the situation?"

"We can't contact Beckman," Casey said.

"There are Ring agents at every entrance to the Buy More and Castle," Sarah added. "The hostages were all moved to the back of the store."

Casey enumerated, "Two guards in the break room, one outside of Big Mike's office, one at the cage's door, two outside the cage at the delivery door, two at the Orange Orange, three with the hostages."

"Where's Shaw?" Chuck asked.

As if on cue, they watched him on the cameras come to the Nerd Herd desk, and pick up the phone. He dialed a number. They didn't have to wonder who he was calling, because the phone at the center of the conference table rang. Ellie and Awesome walked around the table to join them as Casey put the video of Shaw on the main screen.

"You should take it," Sarah told Chuck. "He probably saw you inside, but we don't know if he knows Casey and I are here."

Chuck nodded and put the call on speakerphone. "Hello," he said.

"Chuck, hi!" Shaw said. "Nice to hear from you again."

"What do you want, Shaw?"

"Wow, right to business, huh?" Shaw said. "What changed?"

"The people inside the store are innocent."

Chuck heard a chuckle. "That word again," Shaw said. "Innocent, like your girlfriend?"

Everybody's eyes turned toward Sarah. She didn't acknowledge the sudden attention, but Chuck hated that she was being put through this. "What do you want?" he repeated.

They had discovered quite a bit since Shaw had made his escape. Taylor had talked. The ex-CIA agent turned Ring agent had obviously come to the conclusion that helping the government arrest Shaw was the safest way to keep the Ring from getting to him. Casey, Chuck, and Sarah had reviewed the videos of Taylor's interrogations. He'd said that although it had never been confirmed to him, he'd understood from rumors and bits of observation made here and there, that Shaw had been recruited by the late Ring Director, following the destruction of the Intersect 2.0. The Ring would give Shaw his wife's murderer and a chance to get back at the CIA, in exchange for his work inside the Agency to help the Ring construct another Intersect.

It seemed that Shaw had decided to take matters into his own hands the week before, when he executed the Director and—the team had since found out—taken his place inside the Ring.

"I want two things," Shaw said. "One—and this can't come as a surprise to you—you give me Walker."

Casey lifted his hand, indicating Chuck not to reply. "And two?" he said, instead.

"Two," Shaw said. "I want you to contact Orion."

"O-Orion?"

"Yes," Shaw said. "Or should I say: your father."

"I don't know where he is," Chuck said. "Nobody does."

"Come on, Chuck," Shaw said. "A smart man like your father, I'm sure he left you and your sister—yes I know she's there with you—I'm sure your father left you a way to contact him. Use it." Chuck didn't respond right away, and Shaw carried on, "Now, you probably need to have a good family talk about it. You have twenty minutes to come to a decision. After that, I'll have no choice but to start eliminating hostages."

"Shaw—"

"Oh, and I trust I don't need to tell you that if you try something, I'll kill hostages too," Shaw added. "Twenty minutes, Chuck." He disconnected the call.

"We need to try to restore communications," Casey said.

"Wait a minute, what's going on?" Ellie asked. "Chuck, who is that man? What does he want with dad?" Her voice was getting louder and faster with every question, and she inexplicably turned her attention to the jacket left on the back of the chair in front of her. "And," she said, "what happened to your jacket?" Her finger passed through a hole.

Chuck winced. He knew she knew what it was. She'd worked in an ER. His palm brushed over his chest remembering where the bruises, now almost completely healed, had been. "I was wearing a bulletproof vest under it, so really—"

"You got shot," she cut him off, and her face took on a frightened expression as though saying it out loud made it so much worse.

Sarah reached out for Chuck's forearm, and waited for him to turn to her. "Maybe you and Ellie should take five," she said. "Casey and I can start without you."

A mix of relief and apprehension flowed over Chuck. His sister would finally know the truth, not only about him, but about his family as well; how he should explain to her that sometimes he got shot at, or that their father had left his children to protect them, because he was a genius that had created the Intersect, was another question altogether. "Are you sure?" Chuck asked Sarah. They didn't have a lot of time.

"Yes. Go," Sarah told him.

"Okay, um," he said. "Come with me, Ellie."

His sister glanced over at her husband, who gave her a nod. "I'll stay here with Morgan if you need me," Awesome said.

Chuck led Ellie to what used to be Shaw's office, in order to give them some privacy. He heard Sarah asking Casey for the blueprints of Castle and the Buy More, before closing the door. He'd have to make it quick. He sat down, and indicated Ellie to do the same.

"The man inside the Buy More, his name is Daniel Shaw," Chuck started. "He was a CIA agent that used to work with Casey and me, before he went rogue."

"Rogue?"

"Yeah, now he works for a criminal espionage organization called the Ring."

"Wait, wait, how did you even get involved in all of this?" Ellie said. "We're talking about the CIA, rogue spies, you're a spy, Sarah and John are too… How did that happen?"

Ellie was calm, considering the circumstances, but questions were tumbling out of her mouth quickly, letting her understandable confusion show. Her calmness was probably due to the daze of incredulity at what she had seen and learned. There was so much Chuck needed to tell her to help her understand. So he decided to start at the beginning and give her a short version of what had happened to him in the last two years—how he had accidentally become a government asset; how Casey and Sarah had been sent to protect him; how Chuck had eventually become a spy himself.

"So, you were an asset, but now you're a spy?" Ellie asked.

"Yes," Chuck said. "They trained me when I went to Europe."

"I don't understand how you can know all this, how you can have all these secrets...and I'm the last person to know," Ellie said. "Sure, Morgan and I thought something was going on, but this…" She blinked rapidly several times, visibly overwhelmed by the situation. "I thought that I knew you better than anyone."

"Not telling you was the best way to keep you safe," Chuck said, and took her hand. "Believe me, there's no one I wanted to tell more. I'm sorry." He looked over at Casey and Sarah working.

Ellie must have followed his gaze for she asked, "And Sarah? She wasn't your real girlfriend, but now she is?"

"Yes," Chuck said. "It's complicated to explain, and I don't have time right now, but yes, we're together."

"Is that why you're a spy?" Ellie asked. "Because Sarah is one too?"

"What? No!"

"I always thought Sarah was great, Chuck, but this is crazy!"

"She's not responsible, Ellie," Chuck said firmly. "Sarah didn't even want me to be a spy."

"Then why are you?" she said, with a hint of reproach in her tone.

"It's complicated."

Ellie sighted loudly. "Fine. What does Shaw want with Sarah?"

Chuck closed his eyes in a grimace, and wiped his hands against his thighs. "It's a long story, but…um, Shaw's wife was killed five years ago, and he's holding Sarah responsible for it." That wasn't the whole truth, but his sister would probably freak out if he told her Sarah had killed Evelyn Shaw during her Red Test.

"So he wants Sarah for…?"

Chuck's silence was deafening. Ellie's eyes grew round at the realization. "We won't wait and find out," Chuck said. "We'll stop him."

"What about dad?" Ellie said. She talked with more alarm now—the realization of Shaw's dangerousness probably dawning on her. "What does he have to do with all this? What's Orion?"

"Orion is dad's code name," Chuck said.

A line appeared between Ellie's eyebrows. "His code name?" she echoed. "Wait, you're telling me our crazy dad is a spy too?"

"He's not crazy," Chuck said. "He's a great man who did amazing things. He's not perfect—not as a dad, no—but he's brilliant." Ellie glanced at Chuck with a sad smile, as though she wanted to believe—so much—but refused to let herself think it was true, only to be disappointed later once again. "He invented something," Chuck went on; she deserved to know why their father had left them. "Something very valuable for intelligence agencies, and that's the reason he disappeared. He wanted to protect us from the people who went after him to get his invention."

"Is he in danger, then?"

"I don't know."

"Does Shaw want this invention that dad created?"

"I don't know, Ellie," Chuck said. "That's the first I heard Shaw talk about dad."

It was Chuck's guess, though. The Ring had been working on their Intersect for months. Manoosh Depark, who had been arrested at the Los Angeles Ring cell and was the engineer in charge of the scientific aspect of the project, had explained that his team had come close, but had encountered problems with the cipher. They assumed that was why Shaw had put together the Trace Cell mission, and used Keller in order to have Casey steal what was left of the original 2.0 cipher, still in the possession of the CIA. Since Shaw had stolen the cipher modifications that Beckman's team of analysts had put together, and was now asking about Chuck's dad, it was a logical conclusion that his interest in Orion was Intersect related.

"Do you need to contact him?" Ellie asked.

"I don't even know how," Chuck said.

"I do."

"What?"

"Before leaving after the wedding, Dad said if I needed to contact him, I could do it by posting an advertisement in a newspaper," Ellie said. "There's this whole code he left for me to use."

"Oh," Chuck said. "Where is it? At your place?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well, maybe I'll be able to use that with Shaw," Chuck said and stood up. "I need to go help them. Are you okay?"

Ellie chortled—not out of amusement, it sounded more like disbelief. "I feel like I'm in some sort of bad dream. I'm still hoping I'll wake up, and you won't be a spy anymore." Chuck pursed his lips, but Ellie carried on. "What are we gonna do?"

"We're going to stop them, and get you, Devon, Morgan, and all the hostages out of here," Chuck said, trying to convey as much confidence as possible.

"Okay," Ellie said absently. She craned her neck to look up at him from her chair. "And then…are you done?"

"What?"

"As a spy, this—this life, this job. This is obviously dangerous. Men are attacking the Buy More, and now that I'm thinking about it, it has happened before!" Chuck made another grimace. He remembered all too well what had happened last Christmas. "I don't want to lose you, Chuck."

"Ellie, I can't..."

"Why are you doing this?" she said. She started to sound upset. "Risking your life like that?"

"I can't just stop," Chuck said.

"Why not?"

"You don't understand," Chuck said. "It's not just about me. As long as Shaw is out there, he's going to come after Sarah."

"I thought you weren't doing this for her."

"I wasn't," Chuck said. "The government needed my help. People needed my help." Chuck sighed. "You're a doctor, Ellie, I'm sure you can understand."

"I don't play with guns," Ellie said, "or have a secret base, or lie to everyone around me to do so."

"I know," was all Chuck managed to reply. He chewed on his lower lip, before saying, "Look, maybe you're right, maybe the risks outweigh the reasons I had to work for the CIA. But that all changed when I learned that Shaw was after Sarah. If we don't arrest him today, then, no, I'm sorry, but I can't stop."

Ellie looked down at the floor for a moment. "And if you do arrest him?" she asked, standing up next to him.

Chuck thought about it for a second. Could he stop? He hadn't thought about what he'd do once Sarah would be out of danger. She had been temporarily reinstated, and allowed to lead the search for Shaw with Casey and him, but he and Sarah hadn't discussed anything past that. "Then, maybe," he said honestly. "I don't know," he added facing the door, watching Sarah and Casey arguing about something. "I can't make any promises, Ellie."

She nodded in understanding, even though she clearly wasn't happy about it. "Go then. Save the day, if that's what you do," she said with a shake of her head. "But promise me, you'll be careful." There wasn't any room left for argument in her tone.

"I will," he assured her, and opened the door.

When they walked back to the conference table, Sarah looked up at them. She gave him a look, asking if everything was fine. Chuck was glad she was here. He was pretty sure he'd be freaking out without her. He gave her a nod, before asking, "So, what do we do?"

On the main screen, Chuck could see Shaw. He was discussing something with one of his men at the Nerd Herd desk. He didn't look as collected as he'd been on the video from Castle right before his escape, something—Chuck couldn't put his finger on what—seemed more…edgy about him. But he was still waiting patiently. They had fifteen minutes left.

"The main console is here," Sarah said, pointing at a hallway on the Castle map that was displayed on the table. "I'm going to go and see if I can do something from there so we can contact Beckman."

"Shouldn't I go?"

"You need to stay here in case Shaw calls back."

"But—"

"Our phones aren't working, but these," Sarah went on, waving a walkie-talkie in the air, "seem to. I'll use that to stay in touch with you."

"Okay," Chuck said. "What if it doesn't work?"

"You and I need to figure out what to do if that happens," Casey said.

"Casey will brief you on what we got for now," Sarah said. "I need to go."

She started leaving, but stopped when Chuck said, "Sarah, wait! Um..." He looked around and saw that everybody was looking expectantly at him. He walked to Sarah. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

She frowned at him, but moved quickly to the office that Chuck and Ellie had just returned from. "Sure." Chuck closed the door behind them. "What is—"

When Sarah turned back to him, Chuck cut her off with a kiss. He wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her against him. Once past the surprise, it didn't take long for Sarah to kiss him back and put as much passion into the kiss as he did. In some part of his brain, Chuck hated that the urgency they used to feel in those moments was back, but the rest of him didn't care. He'd wanted to do that ever since Casey had said Shaw was here and Sarah had helped Chuck answer Ellie's questions.

They were both out of breath when the embrace broke, and Sarah's cheeks were flushed when she asked, "What was that for?"

"I just, um." Chuck felt his own cheeks reddening. "Thank you," he said, and saw her eyebrows rise. "For handling things with Ellie and Morgan."

"Chuck," Sarah said, resting her hands on both sides of his neck, "they're gonna be fine."

"I know," he replied, surprising himself.

"Well, feel free to thank me like this anytime," Sarah said with a small smile. She pecked his lips one more time before moving away. "I need to go."

Chuck watched her leave and took a deep breath before joining the others. Ellie and Awesome, who seemed to be having a bit of a heated conversation, had taken a seat opposite Morgan at the conference table. Casey was standing and looking at the maps.

"Everything okay?" the Captain asked, a bit too anxiously for his normally awesome self.

"Yeah, um, I just needed, uh…"

"Say no more," Awesome said. This time he was smiling—broadly.

"No, no—"

"Bartowski," Casey said, saving him from embarrassment.

"Yes," Chuck said, walking next to Casey. "So what are you thinking? How do we stop the Ring?"

"Maybe you need to form the Square," Morgan joked. Chuck smiled at his best friend; Casey was obviously trying to ignore him. "Or the Triangle, since you guys are three. Oh," he exclaimed, "I could be your fourth!"

"I'd rather let Shaw remove my fingernails one by one with a pair of rusty pliers," Casey said.

"That's specific," Awesome muttered with a slight wince.

"If we try something on Shaw," Casey carried on, "we need to find a way to keep the hostages safe, or evacuate them. They're here, out of view from the outside." He indicated an area at the rear of the store. "Trying to evacuate by the front entrance is risky. It's closed, and we'd have to go across the entire floor."

Chuck studied the map—they needed to find another way to evacuate. They were outnumbered. One single Ring agent they couldn't stop, one single bullet, and a hostage could die.

"I thought all the entrances were guarded," Morgan said.

Casey shut him up. "Let him work," he added.

"What about the home theater room?" Chuck said. The hostages were right next to it. "It only leads to a hallway. If we hide the rest of Castle, they wouldn't have to see that it's a base." Chuck looked at Castle's map next to the Buy More one. With his index finger, he traced the route they could make the hostages take. "We could lead them here," Chuck said. "To Castle's back entrance."

"We'd need to deal with the men guarding it, too," Casey said.

Sarah's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie. "I'm at the console. Everything's off, we're on the emergency generator, like we expected. Chuck?"

Chuck had studied Castle's manual thoroughly. He told her about all the manipulations he could think of, as well as their potential plan for the hostages while she worked on the console.

"So, if one of us goes with the hostages," Casey said. "And one of us covers the back entrance, that leaves only one person to go after Shaw."

"We can help," Awesome said.

"Devon!" Ellie chastised.

"Babe, we're talking about an emergency here," Awesome told her. "There must be something we can do to help."

"He's right," Morgan added. "Let us help," he told Casey.

"We'll see," Casey replied.

"What about the other guards?" Chuck said. "We can't take them all out."

"Unfortunately," Casey agreed, somewhat glumly. That meant he'd probably miss some gunplay, Chuck figured. "We'll need to distract some of them."

"How? And when?" Chuck asked. "We need to strike simultaneously for it to work."

"We could plant a few bombs," Casey said.

"You want to blow up Castle?" Morgan asked.

"Not all of it, moron," Casey said. "Just enough to distract them."

"By the air ducts?" Chuck asked, studying the maps. "We can get to the break room," he said. "The cage, the bathrooms—a plumbing incident could help—the Orange Orange too."

"It's not working," Sarah said through the walkie-talkie.

"Walker, you need to come back," Casey told her. "We're running out of time."

"Fine," was all she said.

"Big Mike's office seems to be the best chance we have to get to Shaw," Casey said. "I'll get the bombs." He walked to the armory.

"Are you sure about this, Chuck?" Ellie asked.

"I know it sounds frightening," Chuck said. "But Casey has been doing this for a long time. He knows what he's doing, I promise."

Ellie nodded, and sighed. "Is there something we can do?" she said reluctantly.

Chuck opened his mouth to tell her she should stay here where she's safe, but thought of something. He made sure to switch on the walkie-talkie every time someone talked, in order for Sarah to hear them. It proved to be a pain, when there were so many people in the room. "Actually, yes. We're going to lead the hostages down here through one of Castle's hallways, but we can't let them see the rest of Castle."

"You want to hide it?" Awesome asked.

"Yes. Can you do that?"

"Sure."

"We have some panels we can use to hide the doors," Chuck said. "We can use posters for the inscriptions on the walls, um…"

Sarah, who was listening to the conversation, proposed, "I'll go with them."

Casey returned to the room. "Walker, I'm going to plant the bombs."

"You're up for taking care of the men guarding the hostages?" Sarah said. "You might not have time to come back here."

Morgan spoke before Casey could answer, "I should go with you."

Casey smirked.

"That might actually be a good idea," Chuck added. "Morgan can talk to the Buy More employees; they'll listen to him, while you're focusing on the Ring agents."

"Give Morgan a vest," Sarah said.

"What will we say if someone asks about it, though?" Chuck asked.

"Just say Morgan got it from a movie on eBay or something," she replied. "It's not that far of a stretch," she added in a mutter.

Chuck wanted to ask how she knew about eBay, but Casey growled. "Fine," Casey said, and hung his walkie-talkie on his belt. "We should get going. Follow me, Grimes, and do as you're told."

"Is he always like that?" Morgan asked Chuck when he got to his feet. "What am I saying? It's Casey. Of course, he's always like that."

"He's right, Morgan," Chuck said. "Listen to him, and be careful, okay. This isn't a video game."

Morgan nodded, with a serious expression for once, before leaving with Casey to retrieve the bulletproof vest and head to the air ducts.

"Chuck, will you be okay taking out the guards at the back entrance?" Sarah asked.

"You're going after Shaw?" Chuck had figured she would, but it didn't stop the worry.

"It's me that he wants," Sarah said. "If it comes to it…"

"No," Chuck said firmly. "Besides, won't seeing you only anger him more? Should we really tempt him? He's not even sure you're here."

Sarah walked back into the main room at that moment. "That's what he wants you to think. Shaw's coming after me," she said. "I'll stop him. You take care of your friends and family." Chuck wanted to point out that that was exactly why he didn't want her to go, but Sarah went on. "Anything new with him?"

Chuck followed her gaze to the screen. Shaw was typing on a laptop and talking through his comms. Suddenly, his eyes lost focus; they crossed to his nose before rolling back into his head.

"Did he just..."

"Flash," Sarah finished.

"I don't think you should go," Chuck said. He knew he was getting agitated, but he didn't care. "How are we gonna stop him if he has an Intersect?"

"We'll outsmart him," Casey's voice sounded through their walkie-talkies. Sarah was apparently better at using the communication devices, because Chuck had completely forgotten. "An Intersect doesn't make you invincible; you should know that."

"Maybe you can use it when he'll call back," Sarah said. "Let him know we know he has it." Chuck nodded. "Okay, let's go," she said to Ellie and Awesome.

Chuck was left alone with nothing to do but observe Shaw; listening to the others' progress; watching the time pass on the clock. He thought about everything they had learned about Shaw. In addition to what Depark and Taylor had revealed, they had gone through what Shaw had left behind.

The disks they had found in his car were the original ones from Evelyn Shaw's lockbox. Shaw had managed to replace them with fake disks, keeping the originals for himself. Their study had quickly highlighted that even the original disks had been altered, and Shaw had visibly tried to find out why, how, and by who.

His multiple trips to D.C. hadn't been innocuous; Shaw had been investigating his wife's death. Beckman had been wrong when she'd assumed that Langston Graham had taken the secrets of Sarah's Red Test to his grave, and Shaw's search had pointed him to one of Graham's ex-Deputy Directors: a man named Skinnard.

After Graham's death, Skinnard had chosen to retire. Until he'd died six days ago—murdered inside his house. The police had thought it a burglary gone wrong; the Agency had made a different conclusion—it'd been Shaw. Indeed, the ex-CIA Deputy Director had been the last person alive to know the truth about Sarah's Red Test, and they assumed that was why he'd been done away with.

Skinnard's spy will was clear: there had been (now missing) evidence indicating that Evelyn Shaw had been a mole. Chuck might be able to use this information to his advantage. Either Shaw had simply wanted to overthrow the Ring Director and get more power inside the Ring, or Skinnard had talked. According to Taylor's testimony, the Ring Director had convinced Shaw that the CIA had killed his innocent wife for no apparent reason and used it to turn Shaw into a Ring hunter. The Director's lies could have been the reason for Shaw killing him—just like what seemed to be the fate of everybody involved in Evelyn Shaw's death. Skinnard was dead; the Ring Director was dead; and Sarah was next on the list.

Chuck's pacing hastened at the thought. They were nearing the deadline. He could feel the tension grow inside his body as he kept thinking about what he had on Shaw—until the phone rang again.

"He's calling," he said.

"We're almost there," Casey said. "We need another minute."

"That should do it here," Sarah replied. "We're coming back. Make him talk, Chuck."

"Hello," Chuck said, taking the call.

"Chuck, I gave you twenty minutes," Shaw said. "Now tell me were Walker is."

"Sarah's off the grid," Chuck said.

"Yeah, I heard the official story," Shaw replied. "I have _insiders_ in the Agency. What I'm more interested in is the unofficial version." Chuck didn't say anything, but Shaw was apparently in a chatty mood. "If I had to bet—and I'd hate to do that on the lives of innocent Buy More customers, of course—I'd say you either know where she's hiding, or she's down there with you."

Chuck watched Sarah, Ellie, and Awesome join him quietly. "Shaw…" he started, not knowing what to say.

"I don't expect you'll tell me where she is right away," Shaw said. "Although I'm surprised that someone who refuses to use lethal force like you isn't more worried about all these people's lives. But Walker, if you're listening to this, you know what you have to do. Or you'll have new lives on your conscience." He marked a pause, before asking about Chuck's father.

"What do you want with my father?" Chuck asked. "Do you have a problem with your Intersect?"

"Ah! You've noticed, huh? That's great spy work, Chuck," Shaw said with condescension. "However, I wouldn't say that _I_ have a problem with the Intersect."

"I don't follow."

"See, I've read the reports, Chuck. Remember how light you felt after your father took the Intersect out of your head, last April? That constant pressure that you used to feel, but which was suddenly gone? There was a reason for it. The Intersect comes with side effects."

"Like dry scalp?" Chuck said. "Do you have that problem too?" Sarah tilted her head forward, indicating Chuck should continue dawdling. "'Cause I got to tell you, my father is brilliant, but I doubt he can fix that."

"The Intersect pressures the brain, Chuck," Shaw said. "The more you flash, the more the stress it puts on the brain intensifies."

That was news. "And you think my father can fix it?"

"I know he can," Shaw confirmed.

"What would keep us from just waiting for the Intersect to melt your brain, then?"

"Haha, Chuck," Shaw laughed. "You've had the 2.0 in your head for almost eight months already. And that's not even counting the damages done by your first Intersect, or the updates you received, and even less the Fulcrum Intersect you've had for months before your father took it all out. You'll be gone before me."

"I feel fine," Chuck said—wondering if he was lying. "But thank you for caring."

"Now, once your father provides me with what I need, I'm willing to let the two of you live. He could fix you too, before it's too late. Think about it, Chuck. I'm only here for two things, and then you and your little family can go on with your lives."

"Tempting, sure," Chuck said. "I'd have to find a new girlfriend, though."

"I'd advise not to choose a mindless executioner this time," Shaw said. "But perhaps that's just me."

Chuck was going to ask if Sarah really had been a mindless executioner and bring up the suspicions about his wife being a mole, but he was stopped before he could.

"Sir?" they heard one of Shaw's men say. The Ring agent had brought a hostage with him. The man was clearly scared out of his mind. Chuck watched the Ring agent talk into Shaw's ear for a minute.

"I give you five more minutes to tell me where Walker is and how to contact Orion, Chuck," Shaw said. "Or this one goes first," he added, pointing at the hostage.

Chuck swallowed as Shaw hung up. Knowing that they didn't have any choice left—they had to put their plan into motion—he exchanged a look with Sarah.

"Casey?" Sarah asked through her walkie-talkie. "Are you in position?"

The answer didn't come right away, but eventually Casey said, "Yes, we're ready."

"We'll give you the go," Sarah said.

"Roger that."

"Devon, I could use your help," Sarah said next.

"What? No!" Chuck said.

"It won't be anything dangerous," she assured him. "But I won't have time to secure Shaw's men behind me."

"What do you need me to do?" Awesome asked.

"Once I've taken out Shaw's men, I'll signal you so you can take their weapons and cuff them," Sarah said. Maybe sensing the tension in the room, she added, "I'll make sure it's safe, I promise."

There was a fleeting moment, and Awesome exchanged a look with Ellie before addressing Chuck, "If you tell me you can get us out of here, I trust you, Chuck."

"Sarah won't let anything happen to you," Chuck said, and tilted his head forward.

"Let's go then," Awesome said,

Sarah gave him and Ellie a vest too, "Just in case," before Awesome moved to his wife to give her a parting hug.

Sarah came to Chuck as well. "You should take this off," she said, unfastening his tie. Chuck frowned at first, but realized it was because it could be grabbed and used against him in a fight. There was no need to let that slip in front of Ellie, so he threw the tie away without saying a word. "Be careful," Sarah added, once he was done.

"You be careful," Chuck replied.

"I'm gonna be fine," she said, placing her hands on both sides of his neck, like she'd done countless times before. "Don't worry about me. Just focus on the guards. The hostages are the priority."

Chuck only nodded. She was right, but he was going to worry anyway. He leaned in to give her a chaste kiss—they weren't alone, and he could feel Ellie shooting glances at them.

"I'll contact you when we're ready," Sarah said, before she and Awesome left the room.

"Okay, uh." Chuck puffed out some air, and stretched, thinking about his next move. Sarah's company had given him a boost, but he still didn't sleep very well. "Come with me," he told his sister, and began heading for the back entrance. "You'll hide while I take care of the guards, and as soon as it's secure, you'll leave this place, okay?"

"What do you mean by taking care of the guards, exactly?" Ellie asked, staying on his heels.

"I'll just knock them out or something."

"How?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Chuck!"

"I've done this before, Ellie," Chuck said. "You don't have to worry. Like I said, Sarah and Casey are both experienced agents, and if they put me in charge of this, it's because I can do it."

Chuck grabbed a chair in the first room before the back entrance. He placed it against the wall, under the ventilation, and hopped on it to open the trap. "You need to hide in here," he said.

"What? Are you serious?"

"If I fail, they'll search through Castle. We can't take the risk that they find you."

"But…"

"I won't fail," Chuck said with confidence. "But I'd feel better knowing you're safe. Please?"

Ellie hesitated, but she eventually complied. He gave her a walkie-talkie. "If I don't come to find you, go far enough into the air duct so they won't hear you and contact Casey."

She was obviously terrified at the prospect that Chuck wouldn't come back, but all Ellie said was, "I love you."

"I love you too, Ellie," Chuck said, and gave her hug. Once he was sure that she was out of reach, he walked to the entrance, mentally putting his plan together. "I'm in place," he said through his walkie-talkie. His heart rate sped up as he waited.

Sarah and Awesome took another minute, but eventually, Sarah's voice came through, "We're ready too. On your go, Casey."

"Copy that," Casey said. "Thirty seconds."

Chuck heard the blasts of the bombs going off upstairs. The store's alarm shrieked. He entered the code to open the back entrance, and positioned himself behind the door, before opening it and leaving it ajar.

Chuck flashed.

As he expected, one of Shaw's goons entered. Chuck let him walk in, before slamming the door shut with all the force he could muster against the second man. His right foot caught the first goon's hand in a perfect roundhouse kick and sent his weapon crashing against the wall. Chuck's fist hit the man's jaw with a blow going from up to down—his knuckles exploding with pain—causing the man to kneel on the floor.

The second goon barged in. Chuck dodged a punch, and blocked a second. He cursed his next move; it would be painful. And indeed, the head butt he gave the man _hurt_ —like hell.

The expression "seeing stars" was never more appropriate than in a moment like this one. Chuck shook his head, clearing it just in time, because the first goon had straightened back to his feet, and grabbed Chuck around the neck.

Chuck found himself in the position he'd been in with Shaw a few days ago. This time, however, he was prepared. He struggled to take a breath, and took the time to throw a kick at the second goon's left knee—Chuck heard a crack—to make him fall, before retracting his elbow into the first man's stomach violently. The man's hold on his neck loosened and Chuck took the opportunity to throw his opponent over his sore shoulders.

The man landed on his colleague with a thud. They both cried out at the impact, but Chuck didn't let it distract him. He grabbed the first man's collar and threw a last jab to his chin, knocking him out, before doing the same to the second Ring agent.

Chuck was panting heavily as he looked at the jumble of limbs resting at his feet. He rarely had close hand-to-hand encounters like this one, and for once, the Intersect hadn't made it more fun. It had been a rare display of raw violence coming from him. It'd been messy, and painful; Chuck didn't like it.

"Chuck?" he heard from behind him.

Chuck whirled around, and looked at his sister in horror. Had she seen what he'd just done? What would she think of him? "Ellie," he said, finding his breath. "What are you doing? You should be hiding."

"Are you okay?" she said. Ellie was rooted to her feet, and when she clearly hesitated to approach him, Chuck felt awful. Was she scared of him? "Are they unconscious?" she asked.

Chuck looked back at the two Ring agents. "Yeah, uh," he said, lowering himself down to search them. "I have to secure them. The hostages won't be long."

Ellie finally stepped forward to help him. They took the bodies to the adjacent room, disposed of their weapons, and handcuffed the two men.

"That should do it," Chuck said. "I'm gonna check outside to see if it's clear." It was, and he blocked the doors opened to let the hostages go. "Casey, the back entrance's clear."

"Morgan is on his way," Casey said. "You can go join Walker."

Chuck thought that his partner knew him well, for answering the question before Chuck could ask it. "Morgan will be here soon with the hostages, are you okay?" he asked Ellie.

"Yes," Ellie said. "Yes, you can go."

The hullabaloo from the people hurrying through the hallway decided things for him. Chuck kissed his sister's cheek, before jogging without looking back toward the air duct leading to Big Mike's office. When he got there, he saw three passed out and handcuffed men in the room. Awesome and Sarah had been busy.

Chuck took off and found Awesome in the hallway, coming in his direction. A relieved expression appeared on Awesome's face, immediately replaced by a questioning look.

"Ellie's fine, Devon," Chuck said. "Everything went okay here?"

"Yeah, Sarah…" Awesome said with an incredulous expression on his face. "That's some woman, bro."

"You have no idea," Chuck said. "Where is she?"

"After we took care of the other men at the cage," Devon replied, thumbing over his shoulder in the direction he was coming from, "she went inside the store."

Inside the store. After Shaw.

Chuck didn't wait—he ran as fast as he could. He scraped his forearm against the wall, when he failed to stop on time to avoid it, as he turned to enter the store. His eyes instantly searched for the Nerd Herd desk. He only spotted the hostage Shaw had pointed out during his last call. The man was crouched down, curled up on himself against the desk, clearly in shock. He quivered at Chuck's arrival. In spite of his feeling sorry for the man, Chuck kept looking. The entire store was empty, aside from Casey at its far end, who was securing bodies, Chuck assumed from his position.

Breathing became more and more difficult. Where was Sarah? Chuck could feel sweat soak through his undershirt. Where was Shaw? Chuck's vision wasn't as clear as it should be. What the hell had happened? Did Shaw take her? Chuck tried to stop his head from spinning, and blinked quickly to no avail.

"She just left through the main entrance," Casey shouted as he run to the last hostage.

Chuck turned in that direction, and forced his legs to work again and propel him forward. The automatic doors didn't slide open fast enough, and he turned the air blue as he had to wait before getting to the parking lot.

The sound of tires screeching against the asphalt resonated through the air as a SUV, which had been leaving, came to an abrupt halt.

"Chuck!" he heard Sarah call his name.

He squinted at the car; Sarah was in the driver's seat of the SUV.

Chuck didn't wait to jump inside the SUV, and he heard the tires screeching again as it roared into gear before he could even close the passenger's door.


	13. The Final Shawdown

_**December 8, 2009** _

Chuck let go of the passenger door and fumbled with his seat belt as the car revved up the road. "What's going on?" he asked, sucking in some air when he realized he had stopped breathing.

Sarah veered to the left. Another SUV—which seemed to care about traffic regulations as much as Sarah did at the moment, _i.e._ not at all—came into view in front of them. "It's Shaw," she said. She looked briefly at Chuck. "Are you okay? What happened to your arm?"

Chuck ran his hand across the damaged skin. It wasn't a good idea; he could barely contain his wince. Crashing his injured forearm into the passenger door as Sarah took another left turn, however, made him flinch. "I just scratched it against a wall. Is he going to the Five at this hour?" he asked, taking in their surroundings. Since Sarah's answer was to accelerate, Chuck hoped not.

"I doubt it," Sarah said. "How's Ellie?"

Chuck grasped the armrest before replying, "Everything went fine. What happened with Shaw?"

"He fled," was all she said. She sounded annoyed with herself.

"I wish you'd waited for me," Chuck said. "Or for backup. He has an Intersect, and," Chuck waited for Sarah to finish passing a car, "he's clearly out of his mind."

Sarah at least looked at him apologetically, but all she said was, "He can't get away, Chuck." She stretched an arm to the dashboard, and handed him a gun. "Take this."

Chuck hesitated for a second, cursed himself for being too distracted to remember his tranq gun, and clasped the handgun. "Fine," he said, "but don't leave without me again." His knuckles hurt, and the gun felt cold against his palm, where the skin had thinned and become sensitized due to his rope burn. After checking that the safety was on, Chuck tucked the weapon into his waistband. It was an exercise of balance to do so while the SUV zigzagged through traffic, never slowing down. He was barely done, when a car honked loudly as Sarah cut in front of it to follow the right curve. Chuck didn't remember this road being so sinuous.

He held his breath when a light switched red before them. Sarah didn't even seem to notice. They heard the sound of car tires skidding on the road behind them. Chuck looked back; a fleet of vehicles was spread in the middle of the intersection, but the other drivers seemed to have stopped on time to avoid each other. He realized that the left back window had taken a bullet, generating a windy hiss that his ears hadn't noticed until now. When he straightened back, Chuck was thrown against the car door once more. His shoulder ached.

"Sorry," Sarah said, after completing her left swing. "He knows where he's going."

Chuck's phone blared, aggravating the constant buzz in Chuck's cranium, induced by the heat butt he'd given the Ring agent earlier. He dug the iPhone out of his pocket. "Hey, Casey."

"Where are you?"

"We're chasing Shaw." Chuck paused when their SUV bumped into a car beside them, snapping off the mirror on his side. "Can you follow us with the GPS on my phone?"

"It's still not working," Casey said. "But I just hung up with General Beckman. I'll tell her. What's Shaw driving?"

"I don't know," Chuck said, rolling down his window. The gust of air it caused gave him a new terrifying appreciation of just how fast Sarah was driving. He hurried to grab the side mirror, left dangling from one lonely wire, and it gave way with a quick tug. "A black SUV."

"Toyota Land Cruiser," Sarah said.

Chuck repeated the information to Casey, and his partner hung up, saying he had to call Beckman back. Chuck threw the mirror onto the back seat and closed his window, before asking, "Whose car is this?"

"I don't know," Sarah said. "A customer, I guess."

"You stole it?"

"I didn't exactly have time to go to my car," she said. Chuck's eyes darted back to the shattered back window. The poor owner wouldn't get his SUV back undamaged. "Maybe if they'd given me my Porsche back…"

Chuck sometimes wondered if that wasn't what had annoyed Sarah the most about this whole rogue situation. He knew that was a ridiculous thought, but she really seemed to miss her Porsche.

Shaw's car skidded right, leaving black marks on the road. "It's a residential area," Chuck said. "What's he thinking?"

"He's thinking I won't drive as fast here," Sarah answered, expertly moving on the road to follow.

She cursed when, after a left turn, Shaw steered right immediately. She didn't have time to change direction and kept going straight ahead, before taking the next parallel street. Chuck thought they'd lost him, until Shaw reappeared from the right.

His SUV cut to the left and into a parking lot. The adjacent building looked abandoned. Shaw burst through the fence, and skirted the building to end up in a clay field behind it. Sarah switched on the windshield wipers to escape the cloud of dust that Shaw left in his trail. They'd be lucky if they didn't crash somewhere. How the heck did Sarah see anything in this mess? Chuck preferred to avoid looking at the speed; he felt dizzy enough already.

Shaw swerved to the left once more, coming back onto the road. This time, the honk Chuck heard wasn't coming from behind them. It came from the left, before a car hit along the rear of the SUV, sending them jerking wildly. Sarah spun the wheel quickly, counter-turning the motion. Her foot hit the floor.

She glanced at Chuck, before checking with him that he was okay. She didn't stop. If anything, by the roaring sound of the engine, she was speeding up even more.

Shaw kept racing around the area. "Seriously, he's going south now? He's just messing with us!" Chuck said. His right knuckles were so white from gripping the door; his fingers had probably forgotten what blood was. "There's nowhere to go here!"

As though agreeing with Chuck, Shaw shifted back toward north with two quick turns. Both SUVs entered an industrial area, slaloming between vehicles. Shaw was gaining speed faster than Sarah.

"Call Casey," she said. "We're losing h—"

She hit the brakes at once when Shaw veered into another parking lot. Shaw didn't slow down enough, and the black SUV slewed around on itself, before crashing against a garage door.

Sarah twisted the wheel violently, and Chuck heard himself scream as their own car jerked out of control on the gravel.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Sarah hissed as the safety belt unlocked and the pressure released around her. She refrained from rubbing at the base of her neck—her jacket had covered most of it, but Sarah could still feel a burn—and unbuckled.

"Chuck?" she asked, turning her attention to him. "You okay?"

"Uh…" He looked pale, but unharmed. "I think so," he said.

Not waiting, Sarah unfastened his belt as well. "We need to move," she said, twisting in her seat to look towards the garage door that Shaw's SUV had pierced through. She'd avoided crashing like Shaw, even if the car had briefly careened at the brisk maneuver she'd made.

Sarah stretched quickly. Even though she had humored Chuck when he had asked her to stop her sleeping pills Sarah felt more rested than she'd been since Lisbon. In truth, if it wasn't for Chuck's sometimes agitated slumber, she really wouldn't have any problems sleeping anymore. She was finally feeling her head clear, able to really _think_ ; she was on her game.

They could get Shaw.

Getting out of the SUV, Chuck followed her lead without explanation. It was still a little strange, and she had to curtail her protective instincts most times, but Sarah was getting used to this partner thing with Chuck. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't deny it: she kind of liked it.

They approached the building carefully, guns in hand. Shaw's car was empty. The airbag had triggered, and the driver door's left open. Shaw seemed to have scurried into the building. There were stacks of what appeared to be wood products inside—some tree trunks, but mostly wooden boards. Lots and lots of wooden boards.

"Great," Chuck said. She looked at him. "All this dust is just what my allergies needed," he added, wrinkling his nose.

Sarah rolled her eyes, in spite of the smile she felt tugging at her lips. He did have a point. She could feel the irritation creeping down her respiratory tract too. The air was full of wood dust, likely from woodchips, she assumed. The emptiness of the warehouse/factory—whatever this was—didn't allow for much talking, however, so she shushed him as they made their way inside. Shaw could be anywhere.

"Maybe we should wait for Casey and backup," Chuck said, lowering his voice.

"And let him get away again?" Not going to happen.

Sarah saw Chuck's lips purse. "He's dangerous," he said. "And he wants you dead."

"Which is exactly why we need to stop him," she replied.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

She twirled to try and reassure him. If they were going to stop Shaw, they needed to be smart and focused. They couldn't afford to make mistakes—like, she realized, getting circled by four Ring agents as they were right at this moment.

It cut her short. "I can see your point," Sarah said, as she faced Chuck. Shaw didn't end up smashing that garage door by chance, after all. It was a trap.

Chuck's eyes were a little wider, but he wasn't dismayed by the turn of events. He tilted his head slightly to her left, and his eyes rolled back in a flash. She waited for his signal, and soon they were disarming the two men closest to them on the left, unfortunately losing her own gun in the process. A few punches, and both she and Chuck had thrown the two men into each other, synchronizing as though they'd done this forever.

"Duck!" Chuck said.

Sarah dipped to the floor. Chuck's foot flew above her in a roundhouse kick, hitting a third man behind her by the sound of the wince he let out. She didn't take the time to check. Crouched, all Sarah could see was the fourth man—woman, actually, coming at her. Sarah pushed off of the ground with her hands, and stretched out her legs to sweep the ones of her assailant from beneath her. Standing up, Sarah saw that one man was back on his feet.

"Behind you!" she told Chuck.

Chuck avoided the man's attempt to grab him. He elbowed the thug roughly in the gut. A glimpse of movement from behind her told Sarah that the man Chuck had kicked was still conscious. She turned to swing her fist at him—making sure he'd be napping for good. Looking back, Chuck had blocked the Ring agent with his arms in front of him. Sarah kicked the man violently on the back, pushing him forward. He crashed head-first a stack of wooden boards, which collapsed in a mess.

"I can't hit a girl," Chuck said about the female agent readying herself to launch at him.

While snatching a board, Sarah heard Chuck's yowl as the woman jabbed him in the face. "I can." She clobbered the last remaining Ring agent with the board, and knocked her out.

Chuck doubled over to catch his breath. She couldn't blame him, but Sarah focused on looking around. Shaw was either gone, taking advantage of the distraction, or coming for them. Instinctively, she moved behind a shelf, feeling exposed in the central alley.

"Boy, that's exhausting," Chuck said, before straightening up and giving her a doting smile. "But pretty cool, too."

She smiled back—until Shaw spoke.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Walker, I know you're here," Shaw said.

Chuck froze. The voice, echoing around the building, came from behind him. At the sound of a handgun's safety going off, his arms lifted in the air, almost out of habit. Keeping his stare right in front of him—Sarah had had the time to hide and he didn't want to give away her position—he spun around.

"You're not the one I wanted, Chuck," Shaw said with a shake of his head, "but I guess I'll make do."

"Yeah?"

"Walker killed my wife." Shaw kept his voice high as he walked slowly towards Chuck. "It seems only fair to kill you, too."

"An eye for an eye?" Chuck asked. He hesitated for a second. Should he try to downplay his and Sarah's relationship? They weren't married. How serious did Shaw really think they were? He set aside the thought for later. "That's justice for you?"

"Well… That's a start, I guess." Shaw stopped at about ten feet, next to one of his men lying on the floor, and looked around—no doubt searching for Sarah. "Besides, you're no better than her," he said. "You work for the same people. The ones who lied and used me."

"Is that why you killed Skinnard?" Maybe, if they kept chatting long enough, Sarah would find a way to end this. That's what she did, after all.

"You did your research," Shaw said. "I'll give you that." He smirked in a way that could almost be mistaken for pride, but Chuck knew it was just the same condescension from his ex-superior as earlier. "Turns out they weren't the only ones who had lied," he added nonchalantly.

"She was guilty," Chuck said.

"Maybe," Shaw conceded. So he knew; Skinnard had talked. "Doesn't make it right."

"But this," Chuck said, motioning between them, "does?"

Shaw laughed. "It's not about making it right anymore, Chuck. The CIA played me," he said. "The Ring Director played me." He paused. The little spark in his eyes that usually conveyed his rage was different, Chuck thought. It felt more chaotic, more amused too, almost irrational…crazy. "Well, I can play too."

"So this is revenge," Chuck said.

"Something like that," Shaw said with a shrug. His foot prodded at the man on the ground, and rolled him onto his back without care. The Ring agent moaned but didn't wake. "I see it more as, you know, freelancing. Now that I'm the new Ring Director, I can serve my interests."

"What about my dad?" Chuck asked. "Do you really think he'd help the man who killed his son?"

"Probably not. On the other hand, he'd probably do it to save his daughter." Chuck instinctively stepped forward at the mention of Ellie, feeling his emotions key up. It only made Shaw laugh again. "Exactly," he said.

The man was out of control. He didn't answer to anybody but himself anymore, and he'd stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Civilians be damned. Chuck's jaw clenched at the thought of what had happened at the Buy More. Images of the frightened hostage came back to him; Morgan, Awesome, and Ellie. Saving Sarah's life had been good enough of a reason to stop Shaw before, but it'd become a lot more complicated than that today—a lot simpler too.

The sound of machinery cut through the air. They both turned in its direction, and Sarah materialized out of nowhere. She kicked the hand holding Shaw's gun. He lost balance for a moment, but didn't loosen his grip on the firearm. Sarah's fist thumped his chin, but the man shook off the hit without as much as a grunt. Chuck realized that Shaw was flashing. The other man, who had folded over following both impacts, charged forward—he took Sarah by the waist. Her back was thrust into a pile of timber, taking the breath out of her.

It sprang Chuck into action. Sarah hollered when the back of Shaw's gun smashed into her shoulder, before Chuck could grab both of Shaw's arms from behind. The two men staggered backward in a struggle. Chuck gritted his teeth; he swore that the man had super-human strength. Chuck still managed to make Shaw relinquish his weapon, which bounced noisily on the floor.

Because he'd been listening, Chuck heard another man's moan as well. He took a few seconds to glance sideways. The Ring agent that Shaw had prodded at earlier was trying to sit up. He screamed when a knife skewered his chest. Sarah never disappointed. Chuck couldn't help but smile a little at the thought, until Shaw managed to free himself, and face him.

Shaw threw a right hook that Chuck blocked, only to receive an uppercut. Chuck bit his tongue, and felt the blood pervade his mouth. He couldn't help but spit. Lifting his eyes from the red spurt that had plummeted from his lips, Chuck saw the image of fury. Shaw unceremoniously gripped Chuck's biceps and shoved him to the side toward the floor. Chuck's cheek scratched against the ground as he realized that Shaw's determination, along with the Intersect, might make him the biggest adversary they'd ever faced.

From his prostrated position, Chuck heard several jarring cries coming from Sarah. He blinked and forced himself to twist his neck to get a look. Sarah and Shaw were now engaged in ferocious hand-to-hand. Shaw might have had the Intersect, but Sarah was clearly a woman on a mission. She was returning blow for blow, making Shaw retreat as they disappeared from Chuck's view into an alley between shelves.

Chuck took a deep breath as he prepared himself to get back up, listening to every sound Sarah let out in her fight. His head was suddenly pulled back by his hair. Chuck groaned at the pain, before he blacked out.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Sarah's eyes watered as her shoulder exploded in pain. She blinked. The butt of Shaw's gun had already done some damage, but this time, she was pretty sure Shaw had dislocated it.

She'd care tomorrow.

The move had forced him to lean close. Lifting her knee into Shaw's stomach to get some space, he tumbled backwards and slammed against the metallic stairs of a platform. He righted himself, gripping the rails on both side of the stairs, as Sarah punched him one more time.

She couldn't feel her knuckles anymore, but the blood covering them was starting to stick.

Shaw still had it in him to deflect the next blow, and swayed up the stairs. Sarah followed him. The machine she had wired to make her earlier distraction was still going. Sarah hadn't been sure what it was for, but the machine had reminded her of one of the movies she and Chuck had watched in Seattle. It'd given her the idea to switch it on. A conveyor belt was leading a bunch of timber inside now—probably heading to be cut into chips, considering the boisterous sound and the dust that was flying everywhere.

Sarah ran her fingers across her eyes at the thought—grit and sweat were accumulating on her face, making her eyes sting—and her mind wandered back to Chuck, briefly. Where was he? She'd heard a commotion where she'd last seen him earlier, but she couldn't make out anything over the deafening hubbub created by the machine.

Reaching the top of the balcony overlooking the machinery—likely for maintenance and surveillance—Shaw planted his feet, and his eyes rolled back once more.

Sarah sped up; she had a second, literally a flash, to use to her advantage. By the time her good arm extended in front of her, Shaw's hand had landed with a death grip around her forearm to stop her. Damn Intersect! He twisted, and Sarah had to kneel sideways under the pressure.

Shaw's usual smirk came back full blast onto his face. "You didn't think you'd beat the Intersect, did you?"

Sarah tried to struggle, but her throbbing left arm was useless, and Shaw only wrenched the other more. His nails sunk deep into her skin. She looked down, unable to take his victorious expression any longer.

Her gaze first followed his other hand as he reached toward his waistband, before Sarah noticed that she had been right. The wood chipper appeared clearly below them now. That was her last thought as a knife loomed in Shaw's hand. She had to admire his choice of weapon to end her. It fit.

Sarah wouldn't just let him cut her throat, though. She hadn't survived the last six months, and everything she and Chuck had gone through, to give up now.

With a deep, strained breath, she mustered her last strength and leaped forward. She collided into Shaw. It hurt her trembling left limb like hell, but it had the desired effect. Shaw wavered in an effort to maintain his balance—finally releasing Sarah's forearm—but they were on a narrow balcony. His left foot tried to find purchase on something solid, but there was nothing but air behind him.

Shaw fell.

His scream was only covered by the screeching sound of his knife falling into the wood chipper. Suspended in the air, hanging from the balcony by one hand, Shaw glanced at Sarah.

His usually blank face was displaying for the first time an emotion she'd seen often in the people she'd encountered in her line of work: fear. Fear for his life.

The following seconds seemed to last forever. Sarah stood up slowly, laboriously as the pain—everywhere—seemed to intensify. She didn't let her eyes leave him. This was it.

It was over.

"Sarah!" she heard from below.

Shifting her eyes toward the sound, she spotted Chuck, who was looking up at her and Shaw. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief; he was okay. His glance went to the wood chipper, and she didn't know what the thoughts crossing his mind were at that moment.

"I'm fine," she shouted, and gazed back at Shaw.

His fingers were weakening. He wouldn't last much longer.

Sarah sighed heavily. She bent slowly to grab the knife in her ankle holster, and looked around her. She threw the knife, and didn't miss—she rarely did.

The targeted red button, which she'd assumed to be the emergency stop, engaged. The machinery slowed down, and eventually came to a halt. As soon as it did, Shaw let go. He crashed with a thud, first on the chipper, and then rolled off with the impact, dropping to the ground.

The man wasn't even knocked out. He was too weak to get up, however, and scrambled. Chuck hadn't missed a beat. He welcomed him with a wooden board to the skull.

This time, Shaw was out.

Sarah's eyes found Chuck's once more. He looked in pain. Just like her, he was panting. His cheek was an unnatural crimson. His nose was bleeding, and Sarah ran the back of her hand against her own, realizing hers was too. Her shoulder hurt so bad, she'd probably collapse when the adrenaline wore off. Their clothes were destined to be burned, and they'd need a full day of showering to get the dust off them.

In spite of everything, though, a smile played at the edge of Chuck's lips, and Sarah, feeling a sense of relief overcome her, couldn't help but return it.

––––o–––––o––––

 

"Here you go," Ellie said as she handed Chuck a cup of coffee.

He accepted it with thanks, but said, "You don't have to watch over me, you know." He tried to articulate properly. His tongue had swollen after he'd bitten it. "I'm perfectly capable of making myself a coffee." He tried to sip on said beverage, before stretching out his neck to avoid his sister's hand. "Ellie," he whined, "stop touching it, I'm fine."

She looked reluctant, but she retracted her hand. "I wish you'd gone to the hospital," she said.

"We needed to come back."

"What for? I don't see what you're doing here that you couldn't have done there."

Chuck glanced over at an office, where Sarah was making a call. She'd tucked the phone between her head and the sling wrapped around her left shoulder in order to take some notes. Chuck assumed she was talking with Casey, but he wasn't sure. "I've seen a doctor, Ellie. He released me."

Ellie pursed her lips at that, obviously not happy with that prognosis. A team of agents hadn't taken long to arrive at the Wooden Board Ltd.—or whatever had been the name of that building—after Chuck and Sarah had apprehended Shaw. The team had taken over, securing the place and the unconscious Ring agents, while a medical team examined both Sarah and Chuck. Casey had gone with Shaw. "To make sure," he'd said. They wouldn't take any chances, in case the Ring would try to extract its Director.

Chuck was fine. The medics had cleaned up the scratches on his forearm and cheek, as well as the wounds to his hands; although his injuries were nothing compared to the cuts and bruises Sarah had. The Ring agent who had woken up and attacked him, managed to make him lose consciousness for a few seconds, minutes—Chuck didn't know. But he'd caught up to the agent before he could go after Shaw and Sarah, and with a little bit of physics, Chuck had taken care of him. His lips had a few cuts, he sounded like a toddler, but he hadn't broken his nose or anything else. He was basically just really, really sore—except for a probable concussion, of course.

"You at least need a CT scan," Ellie said.

"I'm fine," Chuck repeated, and saw that Sarah was coming back toward them. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she said, stopping next to his seat. "Beckman shouldn't be long now." Sarah skimmed her hand over the top of his forehead, where a bump was jutting out of his scalp. He shut his eyes briefly when she let her fingers linger in his hair. When he reopened them, he saw Ellie, still standing in front of him, with a facial expression that was a mixture of amazement and amusement—he didn't draw back when it was Sarah checking up on him. "You sure you're fine? Your eyelids are kinda dropping."

Chuck groaned. "I'm not getting any sleep tonight, I guess."

Sarah only smiled as she sat down near him, placing her free hand on his thigh. She had asked a paramedic to relocate her shoulder on the spot. It had looked painful, but she hadn't complained. In addition to the sling, she was sporting a bandage at the base of her neck and one of those things boxers often had on their nose. Other than that, they both had multiple contusions, but they were used to that by now. Sarah had to be as weary as he was, though, and she slouched in her chair.

"No, you can sleep," Ellie said.

"So you can wake me up every hour?" Chuck said. "Pass."

"You do need to rest," his sister insisted.

Chuck took a careful sip of his coffee. Yep, it stung. "Trust me," he replied as he placed the cup on the table. "After this, I'm not looking forward to any kind of physical exhaustion for a while." He frowned after realizing what he'd just said. Ellie's eyebrows had gone up, and her eyes shifted to his girlfriend.

"Noted," Sarah said, laughing. "We can watch that show that your brown t-shirt's from."

It took a lot of willpower not to gasp. "You want to watch _Firefly_?"

"Oh, boy," he heard Ellie say.

"Seriously?" Chuck added.

Sarah squinted at both siblings. "Well, now I'm not so sure."

" _Firefly_ 's awesome!" Morgan, still wearing his bulletproof vest, exclaimed as he reentered the room with Awesome. "You won't regret it, Sarah."

"How's the store?" Chuck asked.

"Everything's clear," Morgan said. "I've talked with Big Mike and I think he bought the story."

"All the hostages and the press have been told the same thing too," Awesome said, moving to hug his wife from behind. "All the agents are leaving, I think."

Chuck nodded, and with a smile, he asked, "Why are you still wearing your vest?"

"Oh, you know," Morgan said, sheepish, "it's kinda cool."

Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at him, but they all shared a laugh, until Beckman cut them off on Castle's main screen.

"Good evening," she said. "Chuck, Sarah," she added with nods as they both stood up to greet her. "Everything has been secured. You can all go home safely."

"What is gonna happen with the Ring, General?" Chuck asked.

"It's unlikely that Shaw will talk. However, we have his men, one of his laptops, his phone. We'll be able to use them, and hopefully find out more about what's left of the organization," she explained. "And as Shaw's vendetta was strictly personal, we believe you're out of harm, Sarah, but we'll maintain your protection detail as a precaution."

Sarah nodded. "What about what Shaw said about the Intersect?" she asked. She left out the unspoken question, probably so as to not alarm Ellie: was the Intersect pressuring Chuck's brain? He was wondering himself. He'd attributed his sleep agitation to stress, but what if there was more to it?

"We don't know," Beckman said honestly. "I've scheduled a meeting with one of our specialists for you, Chuck. We want to look into it. I won't order you to contact your father on the matter, but as a personal piece of advice, I think you should consider it. He has more experience with the Intersect than our scientists."

"I'll think about it," Chuck said, sensing Ellie's gaze on him. Of course, if his health was threatened, he'd probably contact Stephen, but he didn't want to bring trouble to his father. Or have to tell him he'd re-Intersected if he didn't have to, for that matter.

"Very well," Beckman said. "I also trust that what happened today will stay between us." She looked meaningfully at every person in the room. "The safety of our country is at stake."

Chuck rolled his eyes inwardly, but he knew Beckman was taking it upon herself to leave his friends and family alone. They all agreed, and the General wished them a good evening.

"Do you guys need a ride?" Awesome asked.

"No, we're good," Chuck answered. He frowned seeing Sarah and Ellie exchange a look, whose meaning he didn't know. "You can go home."

It had been a long day, and they were all tired. They didn't wait.

"So," Chuck said. He turned to Sarah, and placed his hands on her hips. Sarah leaned against him—he momentarily forgot what he wanted to say—and she brushed her lips against his, in a way he'd been getting used to during the past few days. Smiling afterwards, he asked, "What happens now?"

"Ellie's waiting outside," Sarah said. "You're getting a CT scan."


	14. Epilogue: The Family Dinner

_**January 8, 2010** _

Casey puffed on his cigar. "Beckman called," he said as soon as Sarah reached him. "They found him."

"Already?" she said.

"Heh." He shrugged. "What's the matter? Not ready to quit, yet?"

Hugging herself in the cool breeze of the apartment complex's courtyard, Sarah looked down at the fountain in front of her. Was she ready to quit? She wasn't sure. After what had happened to her, she'd been tired of the CIA and fed up with the life, but since then, she'd settled into some kind of routine.

In the wake of the Ring invasion of the Buy More, the team had wanted to make sure that they'd all be safe, and that Shaw would be put away for good. At the top of the Ring hierarchy, they'd found out, were five Elders—most of them high placed within the government. The team had therefore ended up chasing the Ring Elders for the past month, dismantling every Ring cell, one after the other. It had been quick—lots of Ring agents had abandoned ship after the second Elder's arrest, deciding to work for themselves, or changing employers, like to the powerful Volkoff Industries the team had been hearing about. All Elders were now incarcerated, except one, who had fled early in their hunt. After that, the team would be done with this mission, and Chuck and Sarah had a nice vacation waiting for them.

That was the plan—except they hadn't planned anything on the matter. Between the Ring, handling Chuck's health issues with the Intersect, and the full-on Bartowski holidays celebrations, they hadn't taken the time to.

Now, the last Ring Elder had been apprehended. They would have to make plans, and their vacation was only a tiny part of it. Coming back, they'd have to make decisions. It was certainly unnerving. Sarah had never been in this situation before; her path had been set ever since her recruitment: training, missions, survival. Surprisingly, knowing she and Chuck would make whatever decisions they'd make together, gave her enough confidence not to be freaking out.

"Honestly?" Sarah said. There wasn't much need to lie to Casey; he knew what it was like. "I don't know. What about you?"

Casey hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but Sarah was aware of his new eating habits. He'd become a regular at the diner where Alex McHugh was working: his daughter. What would Casey do if Chuck and Sarah quit? The Burbank Buy More operation would cease. Would Casey leave L.A.?

Her partner raised his eyebrows at her, and attempted to feign ignorance. "What about me?" he asked.

"You've been in L.A. for some time," Sarah said. "You have a life here too." That was beating around the bush, but she didn't want to interfere in his relationship with his daughter. Learning about Alex's existence couldn't have been easy. Telling her that her father wasn't dead after all certainly wasn't either.

Something flickered across Casey's eyes, and he took another puff on his cigar. "There's ways to keep working and stay in L.A.," he said. "Even if Operation Bartowski's over."

Sarah smiled. "Yeah," she said. It was clear Casey had already thought about it. There were plenty of jobs they could seek in California, either within the government or the intelligence private sector. "I guess there is." She wouldn't mind Casey staying around, either.

The door from Chuck and Morgan's apartment opened. They both spun around to see her boyfriend and his roommate exiting the place.

"Heading out for your date?" Sarah asked.

Morgan nodded. "Indeed, I am." He rubbed his jacket with his palms, straightening it up even though it didn't need it.

"Who'd you dress up for, Grimes?" Casey asked.

"No one of interest to you, Colonel," Morgan replied.

Casey's eyebrows knitted dangerously together, and he glanced at Chuck. The two best friends had been catching up rather well ever since Morgan knew the truth about their spy lives. Thankfully, Ellie had saved Sarah from game night, though.

"Don't look at me," Chuck said, lifting both palms in front of him. "I don't know either."

"I don't want to jinx it!" Morgan said.

Sarah chuckled. "Well, have a good date night, Morgan."

"Thanks! Bye!"

Casey snerked at Morgan's departing figure, amused.

"Admit it," Chuck said. "The little bearded guy's growing on you."

Casey grimaced, showing off how much the thought disgusted him, and grunted. "Thanks for dinner."

"You're welcome," Chuck replied. "Oh, Awesome wanted to know if you were up for a jog tomorrow morning?"

"Silver Lake?"

"I think so," Chuck confirmed. "He said your usual spot."

"Works for me," Casey replied. "See you on Monday."

Chuck and Sarah wished him goodnight, and Casey entered his apartment. Chuck waited for the door to close completely, before approaching Sarah and wrapping his arms around her. He grinned. "Hi," he said.

Sarah circled her arms around his neck. She was finally able to do it without her shoulder hurting—much—and grinned back. "Hi."

"You've been quiet, tonight," Chuck said. "Well," he tilted his head to the side, "quieter."

"Have I?"

"Mmhmm. Anything on your mind?"

"Not much. It was your family time, that's all," she said. "Although, Casey just told me they found Blue." It wasn't the Elder's name, obviously, but Chuck had quickly tired of trying to pronounce the Russian Molotkovskiy correctly. So he'd decided to call him Blue, like the color of the sweater he was wearing in his file's picture. Sarah had to admit, it was simpler.

"Oh, already?"

"Yep."

It wasn't difficult to observe Chuck working out the information. For a second, she thought he'd start asking questions. What did she want to do now? Was she quitting? He hadn't decided what he'd do himself either, but they both knew Ellie wanted him to. Maybe Chuck would even ask her to move in again. She didn't want to think about all of that tonight. Sarah needn't worry. Rapidly, Chuck smiled. "So we can go on vacation?" he said.

"Seems like it," Sarah said. "Where do you want to go? We could go back to Seattle, and actually visit the place."

He wrinkled his nose a bit. "I was more picturing someplace sunny, and sandy," he said. "With beaches and nice cocktails."

Sarah laughed. "You just want to see me in a bikini."

"Guilty," Chuck said, completely unapologetic. "We could go to Montréal, too, in that case," he added more seriously. "Or Rome, I heard they have a nice CIA facility there."

"If we're going to Europe, I thought you've always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower."

Chuck licked his lips. At the motion, Sarah's eyes flickered to his mouth. He didn't seem to notice. "I do want to," he said, and hesitated, "but I thought Paris wouldn't bring very good memories for you."

Sarah considered it. They were finally moving on with their lives. "Maybe it's time to make some new memories," she said. "Good ones."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "So, Paris?"

"Paris," Chuck confirmed, and—finally, Sarah thought, since she'd been waiting for it ever since they'd been alone—he closed in to give her a kiss.

When they broke off, after a few minutes, Sarah felt a little lightheaded, and she knew it wasn't because of the champagne Morgan had bought in celebration of the end of the repairs at the Buy More.

"Should we go back?" she said.

Chuck agreed. "Don't think we won't talk about you moving in again, though," he said lightly, and took her hand to lead her into his apartment.

Sarah chuckled, and grinned back at him—but their smiles fell when they opened the door.

––––o–––––o––––

 

Chuck squeezed Sarah's hand a little tighter at the sight in front of him.

"What are you even hiding from anymore?" Ellie said angrily.

"Eleanor," Stephen said. Chuck felt Sarah squeezing his hand back. "It's complicated."

"What's going on?" Chuck interrupted, walking into the room. He let Sarah close the door behind them.

Ellie spun around in her chair to look at him. She was sitting at the dinner table on one side, turned toward their father sitting at the end of it. Awesome had retreated to the kitchen, and was watching the scene from afar.

"Dad's leaving," Ellie told Chuck. "Again."

"Oh." Chuck sat down at the news. He couldn't say he was surprised. His dad had agreed to come visit them for dinner, but Chuck had assumed it was only to check on the Governor he had built for him a few weeks ago.

After meeting with a government psychiatrist, it'd been obvious to Chuck that the government had no idea how the Intersect affected his brain. The doctor had called it a new science, which they hadn't mastered yet. But he'd also warned Chuck that he did believe the Intersect applied pressure—likely unhealthy pressure—to the brain.

So even though he had had his reservations about admitting to his father that he had uploaded the Intersect 2.0 and was working for the CIA, Chuck had contacted Stephen. Sarah and Ellie wouldn't have let him not do so, anyway.

The conversation with his father had been slightly choppy—Stephen was _not_ happy at the prospect of his son being a government agent. Sarah had even tracked him down after they thought he had left again—but Stephen had eventually relented. Ellie and Chuck were grown-ups. They had learned to live their lives by themselves, and they wouldn't let their absentee father decide what kind of lives they would lead. Ellie had taken Chuck's side in the argument, despite her own worries. Of course, the hope had always been that Stephen would _want_ to be part of their lives.

"Aren't you tired of running?" Ellie said. "We are your _children_ , and we are here."

"The people—"

"What people?" she cut him off. "The government isn't after you," Ellie went on. "They've made that clear to us. And Fulcrum and the Ring are gone."

"Ellie," Chuck said. He'd rarely seen his sister display such overt anger. She'd made her peace with Chuck's situation after he had told her about everything, including the Intersect. She'd been impressed by it, actually; as a neurosurgeon, she found the Intersect fascinating. But it also had taken away her brother for a little while, and their father for good it seemed, and she hated that. Chuck felt guilty for bringing their father back into their lives, especially around the holidays and the great family time they had, when he knew Stephen wouldn't stay. He also knew that Ellie and Devon wanted to move on with their lives too. With Ellie's general worry about Chuck lifted, they were thinking about having kids now. Chuck wouldn't be surprised if Ellie announced to him this year that he would become the uncle of an awesome baby.

"I'm sorry," she told Chuck, and sipped a good amount of wine. Awesome, probably sensing that his wife needed him, walked back to the table and sat with her.

"Are you worried about the government?" The question surprised them. It came from Sarah, who had stayed near the couch, not saying a word.

Stephen sighed. "Among others," he said, scratching his cheek. "I think they've proven by now that they can't be trusted, or relied on."

Chuck had to agree, even if he didn't want to. Despite her perfect record, nobody had questioned Sarah's culpability aside from Casey and him. They didn't care about individuals, or families, they'd made that pretty clear back when Chuck was just an asset too. The greater good wasn't as great as you'd expect.

Sarah moved closer to Chuck, and rested her hand on the nape of his neck. The cold of her charm bracelet tickled a little. "But not because of the Intersect?" she asked. Chuck glanced up at her. Where was she going with this? "The government is building a new Intersect," she carried on. "They've got their team and have no intention of trying to get you to work for them. Even after you helped us take out Shaw's Intersect." It had been Stephen's idea to get involved after he'd built Chuck's Governor, although he'd stayed hidden while working on extracting Shaw's Intersect. He'd said that he wanted to make sure his children and their friends would be safe. "You must know that, I'm sure."

Even before Stephen had started working on building the device that would regulate the surge of electrical energy generated inside the brain by the Intersect flashes—govern the Intersect, Stephen had said, and that was why he called it the Governor—Chuck and Sarah had looked into the government project regarding the Intersect. With the discovery made about the Ring Intersect, their own project had received a second wind. None of their plans, though, included Stephen Bartowski anymore.

Stephen's eyes flickered to Sarah, then to something behind her, before returning to the occupants of the table. "They've," he said, "they've lied before."

"But that's not it," Chuck said, catching up.

Stephen looked down, and stared at his glass for what felt like forever. He was fidgeting in his chair. Nobody said a word. Chuck craned his neck to look at Sarah again, and her hand moved in an undefined pattern across his shoulders. He could sense his father was pondering telling him about something—something important.

"Dad?" Ellie eventually asked.

Stephen looked up. He gazed at Ellie and Awesome, then at Chuck and Sarah, and stood up. Chuck had no idea what was on his mind. He'd never understood much about his father's all but crazy demeanor. Stephen trudged to the French doors, looking outside as though they were watched, and closed the curtains. He repeated the motion with every window, as everybody looked at each other perplexed.

Sarah took a seat next to Chuck, and asked him if he was okay in a whisper. He only nodded.

"I'm sorry, guys," Ellie said. She looked tired—probably tired of dealing with all the secrets and lies. "I didn't mean to ruin dinner."

"It's okay, Ellie," Chuck said. "You don't have to apologize."

Awesome gave his wife's temple a kiss, as Sarah whispered to Chuck, "Hey." She reached across the table to take Chuck's hand. "It's gonna be okay."

"I don't know, Sarah," Chuck said, looking down. "I mean, I know we were just finished, but…" He stopped playing with the charms on her bracelet, and looked up. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then we'll deal with it," she said.

It was so simple, and it seemed so obvious to her. He always relished every time she talked about them this way, especially since they'd been more or less living together for the last month: "We will." His lips couldn't help but curl slightly upwards.

Finally, Stephen stopped. He came back in front of them. "I never wanted you to be a spy, Charles." He tugged at his ear. "I knew how dangerous this world is, what it does to the people in it." He shook his head. "Look at what happened to you, Sarah."

"And we made it," Chuck said.

"Yes, and you paid the price, don't you think?"

"But we're together now," Chuck said. "We can move on with our lives." Sarah and he might not have known exactly what'd they'd do yet, but whatever either of them would choose, they'd build a life together. "If we'd followed your example, we'd be hiding forever, instead of being here tonight."

"I had hoped you'd get a different life," Stephen said. "Like your sister."

Getting annoyed now, Chuck said firmly, "I didn't." Ellie looked away from the both of them, fixating on the kitchen bar. Chuck sighed. "Do we really have to have this conversation again?"

"No," Stephen said, momentarily stopping his constant shifting of his feet. "But—but that's why I kept something from you, from the both of you. Something about me, about Orion." His eyes looked at Sarah. "This need to be kept between us."

"Are you serious?" Chuck heard Ellie say.

"Babe…" Awesome said.

"It's okay," Sarah assured.

"Whatever you have to say," Chuck told his father, "we're family here."

Stephen fidgeted with his shirt pocket for a few seconds, but kept going. "I haven't been just running, you know. I've been a spy for the last twenty years, working—working for myself." He paused. "Maybe being a spy is in our blood, after all."

"Working on what?" Ellie asked.

"Maybe I should have told you all of this long ago," Stephen added, looking at everything but them, "but you should know, all we've done, it was to protect you both."

Though Chuck frowned at the pronoun, and glancing at Ellie, he could see she had too, nobody interrupted their father.

"I guess now," Stephen said. "Now it's time for you to know the truth about my work, and—and about the people who tried to destroy me."

Chuck felt himself breathing more heavily as his father went on. He was going to learn the truth. It was scary, he could admit, even if he desperately wanted to know. He gazed at his sister. She was listening intently with Awesome's arm draped around her, and Chuck realized, he was ready to know the truth. He and Sarah were together, for good, and her presence at his side filled him with confidence—confidence that they would be okay. The supportive stroke of her fingers on the back of his hand only illustrated it more.

"Besides Fulcrum and the government, you mean," Ellie said.

"Yes," Stephen said. "If your brother chooses to keep working for the government, I can't protect you." He shook his head again. "I obviously can't protect you forever anyway," Stephen added, gesturing around. "And when I'm gone, you won't be safe from them anymore. Neither of you will be safe."

"Who are you talking about, Mr. Bartowski?" Sarah said. "Why would they come after Chuck and Ellie?"

"These people, they—they are ruthless and cunning and... It's—it's time you learned about your family. Because..." Stephen stopped, motionless. He looked at Ellie first, in a way that made Chuck wonder if he wasn't seeing someone else, before shifting his gaze at them all. "I did it all for her."

The room became quiet, until Chuck's stuttering voice broke the silence. "H-her?"

"Your mom," Stephen said. "She's…kind of a rogue spy."

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this story!


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